Don't Think Twice, It's Alright
by Were Stars to Burn
Summary: Katniss Everdeen is a senior student in Mr. Peeta Mellark's AP English class. What happens when their relationship is stronger than what should be of a student and a teacher? Will the rules keep them apart? Or will the odds prove to be in their favor? READ TO FIND OUT! KatnissXPeeta...
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES.**

**Hey guys! This is my first story and I'm not 100% sure where it'll go but it's feeling right so far! REVIEW FOR INTERNET HUGS!**

**Rating may change... Again, we'll see where this goes. Thanks for reading, amazing people!**

It was a Tuesday like any other. I got up, brushed my teeth, drove to my best friend Johanna's house. We walked to school and sat by our lockers up until the last possible second. We dashed to class, just making it into the room before the anthem played.

"You're cutting it close, Everdeen," my teacher called as soon as the anthem ended.

"Sorry, Mr. M," I called back.

Peeta Mellark (known to his students as 'Mr. M.') was my favourite teacher. He was perfect. He was tall and broad. His booming baritone voice could capture the attention of any straying student. He always had something significant to add, but never in a way that felt like he just needed to hear his own voice. His words were thoughtful; planned out. Each syllable was specifically chosen to fit the meter of his sentence.

Today, he was handing back assignments. We'd had to write self-reflective essays according to Northrope Frye's archetypes. When he arrived at my desk, Mr. M. looked at me with intensity. I could see every fleck of green and gold and brown splattered in the prominently cyan irises that held me gaze. His angular jaw was just hinting at a 5 o'clock shadow, blonde and copper with nearly indistinguishable sprinkles of silver.

God, he was sexy.

"Not bad, Everdeen," He turned to the next desk with a slight smirk.

"M. and Everdeen, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-" Johanna sang quietly.

"Johanna, I have two fists and I am not afraid to use them."

"Whatever, _Everdeen,_" She dragged out my last name in a deep tone, suggesting what I can only assume to be Johanna's take on sensuality, despite her being the least sensual being in the building.

I blushed an looked down at my paper. Aside from a few red-inked markings here and there, it seemed to be pretty solid. I flipped to the back page and saw my mark circled, "29/30." Scrawled in the margin was his only message, "W_atCh youR cApitaliZation."_

I looked up from my essay. As my eyes jumped from row to row of seniors sitting at their desks, my gaze flickered over to Mr. M. He just so happened to be looking right back at me. His eyes flashed from the paper in my hands back to my eyes. He smiled a mischievous smile for a fraction of a second, before returning his attention to the student inquiring about their mark.

Johanna started chatting to me about a presentation we were working on for our History of Film class but my mind was elsewhere. After what felt like an eternity, the bell rang, indicating the end of Period One.

"Everdeen, hold back," Mr. M. called over the squealing of chairs, clicking of binder rings and rustling of notes.

"Yet again," Johanna said under her breath. "I'll meet you in Modern West History?"

"Yeah, I'll see you there," I said over my shoulder, halfheartedly.

As my classmates proceeded to empty out of the AP English room, I headed in the opposite direction; towards Mr. M's desk at the far wall. He looked up at me as the heels of my leather boots tapped the worn-down wooden floors.

The longer his gaze was on me, the more self-conscious I felt. It was as if the 12 second walk across the classroom was taking 12 years. I looked down at my feet, tugging on the hem of my white dress. I looked back up when I reached his desk. He was still looking at me.

I dropped the essay on his desk.

"The rules of capitalization are so unfair to the rest of the words in the sentence," I stated.

Mr. M. chuckled, smiling a wide, crooked smile that stopped by heart. "That maybe true, but it doesn't make them any less affective to the rules of English grammar. Which is why I'm asking you directly to start abiding the laws of writing."

"I _guess_ I can handle that," I retorted. He was silent for a while. Thoughtful.

"It was brilliant," he said, waving his hand toward my essay. "_You_ are brilliant."

I blushed so deeply that my cheeks felt like fire.

"Thanks," I barley whispered.

He was silent again, staring at my essay, lost somewhere in his mind.

"Well," I said at regular volume, "I should probably get to Mod-West..."

"Right," he said, jerking his head up quickly to meet my gaze. "Run along, Everdeen. Wouldn't want to be _late_."

I rolled my eyes and turned on my heel, heading towards the door.

"Late? Who? _Me?_" I called over my shoulder as I walked away.

_"Katniss_," Mr. M. called in a soft tone. He said my first name for the first time in a long time. A long, long time. It was music to my ears. I turned to look back at him over my shoulder.

"Yes?" I asked.

"You're forgetting something."

He got up and glided across the room, each stride with purpose, meeting my halfway.

As he handed me my essay back, his thumb grazed my palm. I looked up at him, wide-eyed, to find returning my gaze. My breath hitched in my throat. Instead of retracting his hand, he quickly caressed the smooth skin of my nuckles with his the pad of his thumb. Neither of us moved for a moment.

Breaking our trance, the bell indicating one-minute-until-Period-Two blared through the room. I snapped back my hand, with the essay.

"I should go," I said quickly, spinning on my heel at lightning speed.I dashed from the room, heart pounding in my ears and hand burning where Peeta Mellark had touched it.

**No Beta so sorry for any spelling mistakes!**

**Credits to: John Green for the bit about capitalization being unfair AND Bob Dylan for the title! Check out the song!**

**Til next time.**

**-Were Stars to Burn**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello, lovelies! I am so pleased by the response to this story! Writing Chapter two was very fun and I'm beginning to get a much clearer idea of where I want this to go. Can't wait for you all to read it! Review+Favourite3**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THEE HUNGER GAMES**

Chapter Two

The bell chimed, announcing my arrival to entire diner. I glanced at the retro-red clock on the tiled wall. 4:08. I was late, as usual.

I dashed over to my usual booth at the back corner. Gale was there, waiting. He glanced up from his phone as I took my seat facing the window.

"8 minutes late," Gale noted.

"_I'm sorry!_" I wailed. "Why is everyone on my god-damned back about tardiness today?"

"Whoa, slow down there, Catnip. It's not my fault you have no sense of timing."

He was right; I really didn't have the slightest concept of time. I didn't mind, though. I just drift easily… Get lost.

"Well, I'm almost 18 and I've been like this every day of my life. No use in trying to change now." I said.

"Some use in getting a watch…" he murmured.

"Ordering anything today, kids?" I looked up to find Greasy Sae. She had been the fry-cook and waitress at Beetee's Burgers for as long as I can remember. Gale and I meet here after school every Tuesday at 4 p.m. Well, I meet Gale when _I'm_ done school.

Gale graduated two years ago but got a job at the local butcher's. He's smart and so capable, but he has three younger siblings and a mother to provide for. He's the man of the house now.

"The usual," Gale told Sae.

"Right. One bottomless cup-o-Joe for the happy couple."

I blushed deeply, looking and my intertwined hands as she left to get our coffee. Everyone who knew us assumed Gale and I were the perfect couple, that we'd always make each other happy. That we were all each other needed.

The fact is, we are not dating. I only have platonic feelings for Gale. He's my best friend. He's like my brother. The jokes about us being together used to bother me. Now they are just annoying.

Gale and I have been friends since childhood. Our fathers worked together in a bank downtown. They were both tellers. Our families were together every weekend. Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter… They are all spent together.

It was a Tuesday. I was in 7th grade. My dad and Gale's dad were supposed to drop up at school for 8:35. Instead, they took us to Beetee's Burgers. 'Burgers for breakfast', they had told us.

We sat in the booth at the back corner, my father and myself facing the window. We had chocolate milkshakes large enough to swim in. We had burgers so big that I couldn't get my mouth around a bite. When we finally tore through as much of the meal as our stomachs could manage, they forced a banana split on us. I thought I was going to be sick. I couldn't move. But it was the happiest stomachache I had had.

Once we managed to bring ourselves to our feet, our dads dropped us at school. Gale and I strutted into the building, greasy fingers and chocolate-covered mouths. We felt limitless.

That was the last time we saw our fathers. An armed gunman came into the bank that day. 5 employees died. I was 11. Gale was 13.

Sae came over with our coffee, pulling me out of my trance.

"First sip?" Gale offered.

"Thanks," I said quietly. I raised the glass in my right hand.

"To life," I said.

"To life," Gale nodded. I took a sip.

The coffee tasted cheap and bitter. No amount of cream or sugar could salvage it. But we weren't drinking for the caffeine… Not for the taste. We were drinking for our fathers. For our memories. For ourselves, as we did every Tuesday at 4 p.m.

"So how was your day?"

"Fine…" I replied halfheartedly. Once my mind was brought to school, all I could think about was Peeta. _Mr. M! Damn it, Katniss, get your shit together! He is- like- double your age._

"Fine? Just fine? Where did your mind just go? Another far away land of unicorns and knights in shining armour?"

"Shut up, Gale."

"Well, what classes did you have today?"

"Umm… Modern West History, Anthropology, Chem… and AP English."

"Wow, right! You're in AP. How is that going?"

"It's fine," I said again.

"Fine? Just fine?"

"Yes! Just fine!" I snapped. "Stop it, Gale, I'm not in the mood for this game. Okay?"

"Okay," he said quietly, looking out at the clock.

"Sorry," I said after a minute. Today was… Stressful."

"Wanna just get out of here?"

"Yes," I complied, "More than anything."

"Vondelpark?" he offered.

"Vondelpark."

* * *

Vondelpark was our favourite site, aside from Beetee's. It's named after the real Vondelpark in Amsterdam. As kids, we used to sit by the pond and Gale would catch toads and I would catch tadpoles and everything would be okay. But we grew up. And sometimes life got harder.

We strolled through the park, my arm hooked through Gale's. We walked for a while, talking quietly about his brother, Rory, and my sister, Prim, and what we hoped they could do with their lives that we were sure we couldn't.

We settled by the edge of the pond, the toes of our boots in the nearly-frozen water. It was mid February and the ground was beginning to thaw.

We sat, slumped against each other, Gale's arm around my back. His cheek burned against my freezing forehead. I removed my glove and reached my arm toward the edge of the pond, lighting tracing shapes in the surface of the water.

"What are you writing?" Gale whispered in my ear.

"Oh," I said quietly. I hadn't been paying attention. I was spelling out 'P-E-E-T-A- M-E-L—'

"Everdeen!" I heard my name called from a booming voice behind me. I looked up to see a towering figure, silhouetted by the brightness of the sun setting in the background.

I shifted my gaze from the blinding sunlight. That's when he came into focus.

_Peeta Mellark._


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES**

**Okay, guys, if you are liking it so far, you will flip in the next few chapters. I've been planning some stuff and trust me, you'll love where it is going!**

Chapter Three

_I shifted my gaze from the blinding sunlight. That's when he came into focus._

_Peeta Mellark._

* * *

"Who's asking?" Gale stood up, broadening his shoulders. I followed.

"Peeta Mellark," Mr. M. said, extending his hand towards Gale. "I'm Katniss' teacher." He met my gaze. His eyes were bluer than the icy pond.

"That's cool. What class?"

"AP English," Mr. M. said, still watching me.

"_Oh!_ We were just talking about that class, man! Is Katniss a bad kid? I bet she is. I don't know if she is loving that class of yours. I mean, she just said-" Mr. M. raised his eyebrows, silently questioning me.

"Shut _up_, Gale!" I said, speaking for the first time. I dug my nails into his palm.

"Ah, okay, okay! Sorry. Forget it." His phone beeped a tri-tone, indicating it was time to pick up his sister.

"Shit, gotta go, Catnip. Same time next week?"

"Yeah, of course."

He leaned in for a hug, wrapping an arm tightly around my shoulder, the other around my waist. He stopped when his lips were levelled with my ear.

"You'll be okay... With him? He'll be cool, right?" he whispered.

"Yes," I said pecking his check goodbye.

Gale turned to nod at Mr. M. "Uh... Nice to meet you. See you Catnip."

He turned and walked back up the dirt and gravel and snowy path, toward the main road.

I watched him leave, eventually looking back to Mr. M.

"So..." I trailed off.

"So," he repeated.

"Do you- do you want to sit down?"

"Sure."

I returned to my spot at the edge of the water, leaning my chin on my knees. Mr. M. followed suit, The leather of his jacket stressed around his elbows where his arms around his knees. He had an orange angora scarf on. Not obnoxiously orange; soft orange... Like a sunset.

"So, you don't like my class?" he asked rather boisterously.

"Well, what if I didn't?" I tested.

"Then I just might have to..."

"To?"

"Ah, who am I kidding?" He scratched at the scruff on his neck. "I love having you in my class. I don't care how much you hate it. I know that you're stuck there."

"I wouldn't say _stuck_,"I teased, turning my head to him. He was doing it again. Looking. He smiled.

"I don't hate your class. At all. It's actually my favourite. Gale was just kidding... He's kind of audacious sometimes."

"_Audacious_. See that? That's why you're in my class," he paused for a minute, pensive. "Sorry about that, by the way..."

"About what?"

"About interrupting your date. I really didn't intend to-"

"Ah- wait," I raised my palms in a 'stop' motion. "No, um, not a date. He's like- my pseudo-brother. Not a date."

"Oh. Good," he said quietly.

"What was that?"

"Hmm?"

"You said-"

"Katniss?" he said softly.

"Yes?"

He looked at the pond. "I..."

I reached my hand back into the pond and continued with my earlier script.

That's when I felt it. His hand over mine. Gently. Deliberately. He cupped his palm over the top of my hand, curling his fingers between mine and pulling it away from the water. He rested our hand back between our bodies, hidden from the world by our touching shoulders.

"Is this okay?" he whispered so low that it might have been the wind.

"Yes," I look up at him through my eyelashes. His eyes pierced mine, as if they penetrated through to my deepest thoughts.

"Katniss, do you like Auden?"

I chuckled. "Does the sun set in the west?"

He smiled and pulled his hand off mine. Suddenly, the cold felt incapacitating.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a book no bigger than a coaster. He handed it to me. It ghosted my fingers over the smooth cover. Auden: Poems. I started to open it.

"No-" he said, hastily lowering my hands with his. They stayed there, resting on mine in my lap. "Read it at home. Tonight."

We sat there, looking at each other. I studied his face. The slightest creases were forming between his eyebrows and on the corners of his mouth. I wanted so badly to reach out and stroke the stubble on his strong jaw. Instead, I turned my head away. _This is getting crazy. It's all in your head. Even if he liked you, it couldn't work out. You'd be an outcast. He could be fired!_

I laid back on my elbows, watching the pond water ripple from the breeze. Mr. M. pulled his fingers through his bristly blond hair. He laid back, too, raising a hand to the tip of my braid, twirling it around his forefinger and thumb. I closed my eyes.

He pulled back unexpectedly. I hadn't realized how much I'd been leaning in. There must have been a matter of inches between us.

"I should... go. Grade papers. Plan lessons. Teacher stuff," he said a bit more loudly, as if he were creating distance with his voice.

"Oh, right. Okay."

"Are you okay getting home?"

"Yeah, I'm driving, so..." My voice trailed off as I noticed the bus pass in his hand. _Should I do it? No. _I looked up to his eyes. _Yes._

"Uh, do you... would you like a ride home?"

He looked away, I could see the conflict written on his face. _Shit. Did I just cross a line? SHIT. _

"Forget abou-"

"Sure," he smiled coyly.

**STAY CLASSY, KIDS (;**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey there, lovelies!**

**How lucky are you? Two updates in two days! I cannot believe the amazing response to this story! Reviews/follows/favourites mean so much to me and totally motivate me to keep going! They have been great words of encouragement. The only question I've gotten is regarding Peeta's age. I have a number in my head, but I think I'll leave it open to interpretation so no one gets offended or anything... Please let me know what you think and want and keep reviewing3**

Chapter Four

We walked towards my car in silence, me half a step in front of Mr. M. As we approached it, I pointed it out.

"Sweet ride," he said in a joking tone.

I giggled. _Wait. Katniss. Did you just giggle?_ I unlocked the doors and we both got in. He looked kind of silly, all long arms and legs and neck curled up in my red 2004 Mini Cooper.

"It was my dad's," I told him.

"And… he wanted something with more leg room, or…"

"No," I said softly, looking at my lap, "He died."

It was silent for a minute.

"Oh, Katniss," his words were weighted. I looked farther away, tears threatening to form. _Fuck, Katniss. Do. Not. Cry._

"Katniss," he cupped his fingers around my jaw, forcing me to meet his gaze. I bit my lip.

"It's never easy to lose someone. It's not easy to be pitied, either. But I am _so sorry _that someone as remarkable as you has had that much hurt."

I nodded a fraction of an inch. He pulled back, eyebrows knitting together. He awkwardly patted me on the shoulder, like on does when rewarding a young child for getting a correct answer.

I looked at him with a questioning gaze, until he looks back with a neutral expression.

"Should we go?" I asked.

"Yeah. Wait- should I ask to see your license and registration first? Accident history? Police reports?"

"All clear," I said, offering my license jokingly. He studied it.

"Nice picture."

I blushed and starting the engine, preparing for the most unexpected drive of my life.

* * *

I pulled up outside his condominium after about 10 minutes of casual chatter, radio commentary and direction-giving.

"Well, thanks, Katniss. I have to say that the afternoon did not go the way I expected it to but,"A sudden bold and unexpected question doth many times surprise a man and lay him open."

"Francis Bacon," I noted.

"Jesus, Katniss, maybe _you_ should be the teacher."

I smiled, rolling my eyes lightly. My gaze landed on the dashboard clock.

"I have to get back to my sister…" I said quietly.

"Right. Sorry. Thanks for the ride, Katniss." _There. He said it again._

_"_No worries. I guess I'll, uh, see you tomorrow?"

"Right. Tomorrow."

He opened the door and stepped out. I put the car into drive.

"Everdeen." I heard, muffled through the glass. I rolled down the window.

"Yes?"

"Don't be late," he smiled cheekily.

"And Katniss?"

"Yes?"

"Don't forget about the book." My hand automatically jumped to feel for the little book in the pocket of my dad's old hunting jacket.

"I won't."

He tapped the side of the car, indicating it was time for me to leave. I shut the window and put the car in motion, watching him shrinking in my side mirror as he watched me drive away.

* * *

I decided to wait until the house was quiet to read Mr. M.'s book. My mother was working the nightshift at the hospital. She is a dedicated nurse, and a less dedicated mother. I cooked dinner for my sister, Prim.

"Katniss? Will you braid my hair?" she asked me as she prepared for bed.

"Of course, little duck!"

I sat down behind her on her bed, splitting her hair into two sections. I began to braid.

"Katniss?"

"Prim?"

"It's so close. Friday."

I was silent. Friday would be the 7-year-anniversary of our father's passing. February 18th. I kissed the top of her head, laying my cheek on her hair.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"I don't know yet. Strange... I can't believe seven years have gone by. I mean, I was just 6 when it happened. So little."

"You _are _so little, little duck. Hence, the nickname." She giggled and I tied off the first braid.

"How was your coffee with Gale?"

"It was... different."

"Different?"

"Yes. We left Beetee's to go to Vondelpark."

"And..."

"And we were sitting by the pond."

"_And..."_

_"_And my English teacher showed up."

"Oh. That's strange. Did he notice you?"

_Notice me? It's as if he was seeking me out._

"Yes."

"Kat, enough with the one-word answers."

"Okay, okay. Gale left. He sat down with me. We talked."

"About what?"

"I don't know, Prim. What do do teachers and students talk about?" I snapped. She was silent as I finished off the second braid. I got off the bed, tucking her under the duvet.I laid down beside her over the covers, nudging her shoulder with my nose. She looked away from me.

"Hey..." I tugged on her braid. "I drove him home," I whispered.

"YOU WHAT?" she flipped over, smacking me with her hair. I blushed, not being able to contain the smile that dominated my face.

"Katniss, do you have a _crush?_"

I remained silent, pursing my lips with extreme effort. Getting up, I kissed her on the cheek. I flicked the light switch and as I shut the door, I whispered, "Maybe."

* * *

I sat on the plushy carpet, leaning against my bed. I rested the book against my knees, opening it to the title page.

'_Property of Peeta Mellark_.' was scrawled in loopy black script. I looked through the table of contents, recognizing the majority of the titles. I fanned through the pages, finding notes scrawled in margins and bits highlighted in orange. Certain lines were underline, others circled. I found a fringed ribbon sticking out the bottom of the pages, near the back. I flipped to the page.

_The More Loving One _(1960)

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well That, for all they care, I can go to hell, But on earth indifference is the least We have to dread from man or beast. How should we like it were stars to burn With a passion for us we could not return? If equal affection cannot be, Let the more loving one be me. Admirer as I think I am Of stars that do not give a damn, I cannot, now I see them, say I missed one terribly all day. Were all stars to disappear or die, I should learn to look at an empty sky And feel its total dark sublime, Though this might take me a little time.

_Fuck._

* * *

__I drove to Johanna's house, conflicted. Do I give the book back? What do I say? What am I _supposed_ to say? Is there an etiquette book called 'How to React When You Think Your Favourite Hot Teacher is Hitting on You and You Like It'? No. Probably not.

Johanna and I walked in silence. Well, I was silent. She was telling me about her date with, "Some asshole named Marvel. Who names their kid _Marvel_."

All I could think about was how I was going to react to Mr. M. I wanted him. Badly. But I couldn't let things escalate. What if something actually happened and we were caught? What would people say about me? What about Prim? I have to put Prim first.

But why were those lines underline in the poem? They must have been for the intention of my reading. I mean, he _gave_ me the book. He marked the page! Was he seriously tying to tell me something?

We got to school and sat by our lockers. Our friend Annie came over to join us. Johanna retold her story about Who-Names-Their-Kid-Marvel. I quietly told them I was going to drop something off and they left me on my marry way. I got to the double doors of Mr. M.'s class. He had one of the only rooms with double doors. Most of the windows blurred my vision of the classroom with rippled glass. I looked through the centre section. I could see him there, at his desk. And he looked up and saw me. And smiled.

My expression remained neutral as I entered the room. I walked straight to his desk, Auden in hand, and I pressed the book down with firm fingertips. I knew what I had to do. _Be strong, Katniss. You're strong._

"Everdeen! You're early! Good mor-"

"Mr. Mellark," I said quietly, using his full name intentionally.

"Peeta," he whispered, "You can call me Peeta."

_God, I wish I could._

"Mr. M," every syllable was spoken with percision, "It has to stop."

His face fell sullen. He looked down.

"Katniss... It hasn't even started."

**LIKE OMG THOUGHTS?! I was going to make this a little longer but decided I needed some stuff for next chapter? And who doesn't love a heart-wrenching cliffhanger? Did you like the poem? It's one of my favourites! Anyhoo, please review!**

**Stay classy, kids (;**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi there (: THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVELY REVIEWS! I hope you're appreciating this- 3 days, 3 updates... This is hard stuff (just kidding, I love every second of it)! So one note: I know the chapters aren't that long but it allows me to update more frequently. Ok? Ok (; thanks for reading! REMEMBER reviews=faster updates!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games**

Chapter Five

_"Katniss... It hasn't even started."_

* * *

I nodded, eyes watering. I looked down at my fingertips, which seemed to be providing me with strength through the cover of the little book.

"I know," I whispered. I took a step back, hearing Johanna loudly approaching the room, Annie on her arm. I joined them at our desks, not risking the hurt of looking back.

Class was excruciating. I spent the majority of my time twiddling my thumbs, pretending to be occupied by the very interesting gray-speckled walls, and biting my lip so I wouldn't cry. Every time I looked at him, I got closer and closer to failing.

_Oh, Katniss. _I rested my forehead on my crossed arms. _He's just a guy. Not even _your _guy. You'll get over it._

_Right?_

The rest of Wednesday and Thursday dragged on. Clocks moved more slowly, nomenclature was harder, silent films were quieter and my arms felt increasingly colder in the February air.

On Thursday night, I went to my room after tucking Prim into bed, just as Johanna called.

"Hi Ho!"

"Hello, Johanna."

"Are you ready for tomorrow?"

"What? Like emotionally? I mean, I'll deal with it. I always do. I have to. I'm worried about Prim."

"_Katniss_," she sounded frustrated. "It's not that I don't care that your father is dead. I really do. And you are an unbelievably selfless person for only caring about your sister. But you can be so _brainless_. Have you even considered that it is your birthday tomorrow?"

"Oh," I said. _Right._

"Yep, Katniss' birthday! You're champagne birthday, too. You'll be legal!"

_Oh. OH! Katniss Everdeen, you idiot. You're turning 18. As in 18-legal-age-of-consent_. _As in you-can-legally-date-Peeta._

"Yoohoo! Brainless? You there?"

"Yes! Johanna, you genius, I love you! I'll see you tomorrow, okay?!"

"Uh- what?"

"I have to go," I rushed her.

"Okay, fine. Spaz. But be ready after school! I'm taking you out shopping for a few… things. And then out with a few people. Okay?"

"Okay. Bye, Johanna!"

I snapped my phone shut. Tomorrow might actually shape up to be a good day.

* * *

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR KATNISS, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!"

"Eughhh," I croaked groggily, pulling my blanket over my head. Prim was screaming at full-volume, my mother softly accompanying her.

"Get up, get up! You're 18, OH-MY-GOD!"

Prim pried the blanket from my claws. She presented me with a large box and a card.

"Happy birthday, darling," my mother smiled gently.

"Thanks," I murmured, turning back to Prim. "So what is in this box?"

"Open it!"

I tentatively opened the lid to the mysterious white box. I unfolded several layers of white and black and shimmery silver tissue paper. I pulled out a short dress.

"Put it on, Kat!"

She shoved me into the closet where I tried on the dress. It fit perfectly. It had a fitted black bodice, 1-inch-thick straps and cut mid-back. It hinted at a sweetheart top. The shimmery black polyester faded to brilliant silver lace-cut nylon. It hugged my torso, fraying at my waist. I looked like I was painted by a country nighttime sky.

"Prim," I pulled her into my arms. "_Thank you_."

"You're welcome! Wear it out with Johanna tonight."

"How did you…" she smiled at me, knowingly.

"Go get dressed for school. Take that dress with you for later."

"Yes Ma'am."

* * *

I spent extra time on my appearance today. Was I being silly that I wanted to feel nice on my birthday? It was always a somber occasion. Why was this one different?

_Peeta._ It popped into my mind before I registered what it even meant.

I swept back the front of half my hair, leaving the other side to fall in waves over my cheekbone. I wore a cream-colored dress with lace sleeves reaching my wrists. I put on thick black tights and my signature beaten-up leather boots. Prim finished off my look with a rich satin lipstick.

I trotted in front of Johanna to school with a skip in my step.

"Happy birthday, Brainless," Johanna wrapped her arms around my shoulders and kissed me on the cheek. "You seem… weird today. But I guess you're weird every day."

"Uh, thanks?" I grabbed her elbow as we turned into the building, pulling her back. "Hey, I have to talk to Mr. M. and I want to have enough time before the anthem…"

"Yeah, he's so anal about that. Go ahead I'll see you in a few."

"Bye, Jo." _Wish me luck._

I stopped outside the double doors, like I did two days before. I pulled out the little note of paper I had scrawled on this morning. I looked through the one window without the rippled glass. He look up and saw me. He smiled weakly. I let out a breathe of relief I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

I opened the door and walked in. His stare seemed to focus. His gaze lingered on my hair and my wrists, landing on my eyes. I blushed.

"Early again," he noted.

"Yes," I said approaching his desk. I looked at him this time.

"So, what can I do for you?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" he raised his eyebrows.

"I just wanted to tell you…" I looked down as a wide grin spread across my face. "Today is my eighteenth birthday."

His expression remained neutral for a minute as he thought. Then, his eyebrows knitted together. Just as his mouth formed an 'o' to speak, the bell rang, indicating it was 5 minutes to class. Groggy seniors began to shuffle into the room.

I dropped the scrap of paper on his desk. "_If equal affection cannot be..._" His eyes rolled over the script for a fraction of a second before his face broke out in a brilliant smile. I spun on my heel, heading towards my desk. This time, I looked back. This time, I smiled.

**Okay? Everyone happy? KATNISS=LEGAL (**THEREFORE WE CAN ALL LOVE EACH OTHER AND GET ALONG**).**

**If you liked her dress, the one in mind is called Reflected Moonlight Dress by Free People (in black+silver).**

**Anyone get the little February Air reference? And did you like the poem? I LOVE it!**

**Stay tuned for Chapter Six! I know I can't wait(;**

**Stay classy, kids.**


	6. Chapter 6

**-WARNING: Underaged drinking. Don't like it? Don't read it. (Depends on your idea of underaged... I'm from Canada and it's legal to drink at 18, but I know it's not in some places)  
-DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Hunger Games. I Do own this story, though.  
-I literally do not know how you guys get me to post an update every day! I just love writing this so much! Remember that reviews=faster chapters (; Enjoy this!**

Chapter Six

The day went fairly quickly. Johanna coerced the English class to sing Happy Birthday. Then, the Chem class. Then the Film History class. I was relieved by the time I got to Anthropology because it was my only class without her. She was relentless, though, and barged into the room mid-lecture, singing at the top of her lungs. I rolled my eyes and shrank further into my seat, cheeks on fire.

Meeting up at our lockers after class, she grabbed my hand.

"Come on, Katniss. We've got a lot to do and, like, _no time_!"

I smiled and let her pull me through the hallway to the back exit of the building.

"Everdeen!" I heard behind me.

I skidded to a halt and whipped my head around. My hair fell in my face, my eyes were wide.

"Happy birthday," Mr. M called from the doors of his classroom.

I just stood there, smiling. Johanna pulled me from my trance, literally _pulled_, and called, "Thanks Mr. M., but we have _got _to _go_!"

She ran to the exit, lugging me a foot behind. My head whipped back and forth between the door, coming closer, and Mr. M., who was once again shrinking behind me.

* * *

"Okay, so remember how I said I was taking you out?" Johanna asked.

"Yes."

"Well, I am, later. But right now I need you to drive."

She directed me to a shadier part of town. There was an eclectic mix of Korean restaurants, Indian sari shops and hipster cafes.

She pulled me into a tattoo shop off the beaten track.

"Johanna… No way. No."

"Chill, _Everdeen_," she said, obviously channeling Mr. M. I stuck my tongue out at her. "I have a different gift for you. All I need right now is for you to take a picture. Prim did a good job."

"A good job at what?" I asked, puzzled. She couldn't have been talking about the dress. I hadn't shown it to her yet.

"Your hair. Your makeup. You look… sophisticated. You look older. Perfect for a fake I.D."

"A _what?!_"

* * *

Half an hour later, Johanna and I were back at her house, I.D.s tucked stealthily in our wallets.

"Look, Katniss," she'd said. "You'll want it in 6 months for college. I'm just… giving you a head start. Besides, we have to get you smashed! You're 18! You're legal in parts of Canada, you know?"

So I did it. I'd had a stressful week. I deserved some release. Maybe in the form of alcohol, strobe lights and dancing.

We got dressed, getting pumped up to some top 40 hits. Johanna touched up my waves and teased my hair.

"Shaking out you hair is the key to looking like you know what you're doing," Johanna told me when I reminded her that I can't dance for shit.

"Can you zip me up?" I asked Johanna when I finally pulled on the beautiful dress.

She pulled up the tick zipper with care, spinning me by my shoulders.

"Wow, Katniss. _Wow_."

"Thanks, Jo," we stood there like idiots, smiling at each other like proud mothers. "You look amazing," I told her. She really did. She was wearing a strapless green velvet dress, exposing her angular shoulder blades and strong legs.

"Thanks! Now. What shoes?" she asked.

"Um… My boots?"

"No, Katniss, no!" Stay here."

I sat on her bed, tapping my heels together. She returned a minute later, deathtraps in hand.

"Put these on. You're an 8, right?"

I groaned. "If I say no, do I not have to wear them?"

She looked at me, pointedly. I pulled on the chunky heels. They were black and platform and had a row of silver studs lining the back, down the heel. I tucked my cell and my I.D. and fifty bucks into my bra.

"Right," Johanna looked at our reflections in the floor length mirror. "We look hot."

We got out of the cab and Johanna pulled me through a tiny ally, to a very intimidating and padlocked rusted door.

"Jo… This place is creepy."

"No, trust me and be quiet."

"Evening, ladies," a burly man greeted us. He was easily three times my width in muscle. He was wearing blacked-out sunglasses, despite it being after 10 p.m. and very dark.

"I.D.s please." Jo handed hers over and I offered mine as well. He glanced at my picture, then at my face. He shined a little flashlight on the card and smiled. He did the same to Johanna's.

"Right, ladies. Enjoy yourselves." He opened the door and a thumping bass and neon lights engulfed me.

We stood by a tall standing table, near the bar. I was sipping on my second White Russian, which came highly recommended by Johanna. It tasted like coffee and vodka and cream and I never wanted it to end.

Johanna had been pointing out a guy wearing denim-on-denim and a John Lennon shades when two warm hands covered me eyes.

"Guess who, Catnip," someone said in my ear.

"Gale!" I squealed, giddy from the alcohol. I threw my arms around him and he spun me in a little circle. As he spun me, I saw across the bar. And there, on the edge of the opposite side of the dance floor, was none other than Mr. M…

And he was with a woman.

My face fell as I pushed past Gale's arm, giving myself a clearer view of Mr. M. and the blonde. She was older than me, all arms and legs. He hair was long and full and seemed to glimmer in the neon lights. I watched as Mr. M. leaned in, saying something in her and smiling in the direction of the dance floor.

I turned to Johanna, who had apparently ordered more drink, which appeared in front of me. I took a shot of the translucent substance, then another. I grabbed Gale's arm on one side and Johanna's on the other.

"Let's dance," I said.

* * *

It was cool. I shook out my hair and shoulders, as if the tension and confusion could be released through my semi-rhythmic movements. The synths banged and I recognized the song 'I Love It' by Icona Pop and Charlie XCX. It was a girl-power-fuck-life-burn-shit-down kind of song. The kind that makes you just want to let go. But then I saw him again, Mr. M. And he was still with the blond. And I was still mad.

The music changed. It was a throwback. 'Yeah' by Usher. Johanna wandered off with some buff guy with bronzed skin and hair. I watched how she moved, hips and arms and neck, to the meter of the song. I grabbed Gale's hand and walked into the heart of the dance floor, closing half the distance between Mr. M. and myself.

I tried to be like Johanna. I turned, my back against Gale's front. I swung my hips slowly and deliberately, each movement hitting the up-beat. I threw my arms back, touching his hair, is thigh, his arm. I leaned my head back, resting it against his chest.

"_Katniss_," he groaned in my ear and I closed my eyes. I felt his hands on my hip, my waist, in my own hair. They were so big and so warm and _everywhere_. Eventually, the song faded into a new one, a more upbeat one. I recognize it, too. 'How to Be a Heartbreaker' by Marina and the Diamonds.

I opened my eyes, using what felt like all my strength to pull my head off of Gale's chest.

I wasn't expecting Peeta Mellark to be standing right in front of me.

I _especially_ wasn't expecting to see him looking… jealous?

**I really hope you liked it! It's only getting better.. hehe  
Quick note: If you don't like the whole teacher-student-underage thing, I get that. And the underage drinking thing, too. But NO ONE is making you continue to read this story! If you don't like it- stop reading. Cause I like it. Kthanks3**

**Go listen to MARINA AND THE DIAMONDS and ICONA POP (FT. CHARLIE XCX) and Usher(duh)  
Thanks for reading!**

**Stay Classy, Kids (;**


	7. Chapter 7

**Well HEY THERE guys and dolls!**  
**I know what you're thinking... "Dis BITCH TOTALLY LED ME ON TO THINK SHE'D START UPDATING EVERY DAY." Well, dis bitch is a tease. Sorry about the wait! I promise it's worth it (; disclaimer:IdonotownTheHungerGames):  
Please review/favourite/follow for HUGE internet hugs! Feel free to PM me about questions/comments/meaning of life!**

Chapter Seven:

_I wasn't expecting Peeta Mellark to be standing right in front of me._

_I _especially_ wasn't expecting to see him looking… jealous? _

* * *

I stood there, straight-faced and wide-eyed, staring into Mr. M.'s eyes. His blue ones were smoldering more than I ever thought such an icy color could.

"Oh, shit," Gale said in my ear, recognition flickering in his eyes. "Katniss is that-"

"Stay here," I turned to face him, panicked. "He's cool. Just let me talk to him. It'll be fine. He's cool." I couldn't tell who I was trying to convince more: Gale or myself.

"Katniss!" he called. He tugged on the ends of my hair. "Wait. Stay."

"I'll be back. I'm sorry." I turned my back to Gale.

I looked at Mr. M. He remained silent.

"Wanna go…"

"Outside," he instructed and turned. I followed.

He led me to an alley behind the bar. His eyelashes were casting shadows on his cheeks from the streetlights overhead in the late night sky. It was cold and damp. I leaned against the brick wall of the bar, wrapping my arms around myself.

He removed his blazer, handing it to me. I could see the tight muscles of his chest and arms through his thin knit sweater. I put my arms through the sleeves of the blazer, inhaling his scent. I closed my eyes. There were notes of cinnamon and sage and warmth.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Celebrating my birthday," I sighed, serenely, lifting my heavy eyelids. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"It's my brother's engagement party."

"Oh. _That _explains the ho."

"What?!" he sounded angry. He looked confused and hurt. I tried to back paddle.

"Um… That girl you were with. You just seemed pretty… close."

"Katniss, that's my future sister-in-law. We were laughing at my brother's dance moves."

"_Oh._" My cheeks flushed. I was embarrassed.

"Anyway, I'm not the one that was getting all hot and heavy on the dance floor! I thought you said that guy is like your brother."

"He _is_-"

"Well, I've got two brothers, Katniss, and let me tell you, I don't treat either of them like _that_," he spat. I shrank further against the wall, ashamed and wounded. A single, heavy tear escaped my eye and rolled down my cheek.

"_Shit_," he said under his breath. He stepped arm's length away and reached out a warm hand to wipe the mark of sadness from my cheek.

"Katniss, look, I didn't come here with the intention of finding a girl tonight. There's only one girl I want."

I looked up at him through my lashes, hopeful. I took a step closer with newfound confidence.

"Oh? Who?"

We stood so close that I could he his breath catch in his throat.

"You know who," he whispered.

I touched the collar of his sweater. His Adam's apple bobbed.

"Say it?" I pleaded.

He brought his hand up to hold my jaw, strongly. I clenched my teeth. His eyes never left mine.

"I want _you_." My eyes fell closed and I smiled. His fingers stretched up to caress my cheek, his other hand mirroring the action.

"I want you Katniss. I want you _so _badly. I want to be near you, to hold you, to touch you. But it's wrong. It's so wrong and so dangerous and I couldn't do it to you. You're so perfect, so pure. This, us… It would ruin you."

My eyes searched his face frantically. _How could he think that? How could he think this was anything but right?_

I grabbed his cheeks like he grabbed mine, pulling his gaze to meet mine.

"You. Could. _Never_. Ruin. Me." His eyes searched mine, looking scared and conflicted and thoughtful.

"Kiss me," I asked. He hesitated. "Kiss me, Peeta."

And his mouth was on mine, strong firm and forceful. We caressed each other; lips, tongues, fingers, palms. He pressed me up against the wall. My teeth grazed his bottom lip and a nipped down for a fraction of a second, loving the way he groaned. His fingers braided through my long, loose hair and his hand slipped from my neck to my shoulder, down my arm. He brought my wrist to my lips and kissed it, giving me a moment to catch my breath. I traced the side of his face, combing my fingers back through his grown-out crew cut. I smiled at him as my heartbeat calmed and his kisses slowed.

He brought his face back to mine for one more long, soft kiss. It had less urgency, less fire. But more emotion. I could feel everything he felt for me, and I hoped he could in turn. I leaned my cheek against his smooth one, caressing his ear with my nose. He wrapped his arms securely around my waist, flat palms pressing me against him.

"You shaved," I noted, mind spinning from the intoxication of the alcohol and the kisses.

He chuckled. "You noticed?"

"I liked the look of your scruff. I just wanted to reach up and touch the roughness, every time I looked at you." I felt him smile against my cheek.

"I'll see what I can do about it, then."

"But I don't mind the smooth…"

I kissed cheeks, his forehead, the bottom of his ears, the apexes of his eyes, the corners of his mouth, the tip of his nose… Everywhere but his mouth.

"Tease," he snickered, pulling my bottom lip between his.

"Maybe," I kissed back. "Just a little bit. But when you get me, doesn't it make it-"

"So," kiss. "Much," kiss. "Better," he whispered between pecks before engaging me in a heated battle between our mouths, both of us fighting for dominance. My nails dug into his cheeks, scratching down his face. His hands slip into my- _his_- jacket, tracing my shoulder blades and caressing my bare upper back. I pulled away after a few minutes to suck at the juncture between his jaw and neck.

"_Katniss_," he groaned. He pulled my face back to look at him. He looked into my soul, searching for something. What it was, I couldn't tell. His hands cupped my cheeks. I grabbed his wrists, securing his hands on me. His eyes shone down at me.

"Katniss… I-"

"What the _fuck_ is this?!" I looked over Peeta's arm. Gale was standing in the doorway. Mad.

**EAT. IT. UP.  
Stay classy, kids! (;  
333**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey all you amazing people! Sorry for the long wait on this one... I was out of town for a couple days. It's not as juicy as the last chapter but it is necessary and I promise that Chapter 9 won't disappoint! Let me know if you have any ideas of what you want to see in upcoming chapters. Remember, reviewing+following+favorite-ing=faster updates! **

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES )):**

****Chapter Eight

I was frozen. _Caught. _That was all in could think. _A matter of minutes and we're already fucked. _Two thick tears rolled down my cheeks. I bit my lip. Gale was coming closer, drunk and fuming

I thought he was going to grab Peeta. I thought it was him he'd try to upper-cut. I thought Peeta would be leaving the bar with a marked face. But instead, Gale came for me. His strong hands clasped my shoulders and he pinned me against the wall, as Peeta had just a few minutes ago.

"Gale!" I breathed, eyes shifting frantically between him and Peeta.

"How could you, Katniss? _How could you!_" He shook my body roughly. I knocked my head against the brick.

"Stop, Gale, you're hurting-" and then he was gone. I slumped down to the ground, face in my hands.

"Do not. Touch. Her." I looked up to see Peeta towering over Gale, holding him by his collar. Peeta's stare could have burned holes through Gale's head.

"Hey, _fuck off_, creep!" Gale took a swing at Peeta.

He must have been really drunk, because he missed Peeta's jaw by a solid foot and a half… And met the brick wall instead.

"_Fuck_!" Gale shouted. "SHIT. OH FUCK." He grabbed his injured hand by the wrist, stumbling to his knees a few feet away from me.

"Gale, what did you?" Johanna shouted as she exited the bar. She saw Gale on the ground. Then me next to him. That's when she noticed Peeta facing the two of us.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me." She threw her arms in our direction, exasperated. She walked over to Gale." You- get off your ass. You're plastered. Let's get you in a cab."

She knelt beside me and cupped my cheeks. Her hand were warm. "What happened here, brainless?" She hoisted me up by the elbows and I leaned against the brick again.

"And you," she walked over to Peeta. "I know you're my teacher and superior and shit, and I don't know what happened out here in the last five minutes, but you should know that I will kick your ass if… If _anything_. I can- and will- kick your ass."

I closed my eyes, resting my head on the wall. I was mortified. Gale was acting like a boisterous, drunk asshole. Johanna meant well by trying to protect me. All I wanted was to be alone with Peeta, in that happy bubble we lived in 5 minutes ago.

"I'm going to get this idiot in a cab. I'll be back in two minutes." Johanna said, rather pointedly to Peeta.

_Where do we go from here?_

"Are you okay?" I heard in my ear. I opened my eyes to Peeta standing in front of me.

"Yes. I'm fine. Can we just… go back a few minutes? Live in that time."

He looked down, quietly. _Does he regret everything?_

"Or we can just forget everything… I mean, go back to how it should be. Normal. Forget it."

"But Katniss," he looked into my eyes. "I don't want to forget." He grabbed my hands in his. I slid my palms up his forearms, biceps, to his chest, where they rested. I leaned in, placing the chastest of kisses on his parted lips. I stepped back to find his eyes still closed.

"Johanna is coming," I could hear the clicking of her heels nearing. "Meet me at the Vondelpark tomorrow?"

"3 o'clock?

"Perfect," I started to walk away.

"Katniss," he grabbed my arm, pulling me back. "Happy birthday." He whispered, lips barely touching the bottom of my ear.

"Let's go, brainless," Johanna called as she rounded the corner. "Uh, see you, Mr. M?"

I looked over my shoulder as Peeta mouthed the word 'tomorrow'. _Til it be morrow._

When I got to my room, I stepped out of me heels and slipped out of Peeta's jacket. I peeled the dress from my body and got between the sheets. I covered myself once again with the jacket, drifting away in his scent and memory.

I woke up to the early afternoon sun on my face, feeling my phone vibrating somewhere in my bed. I pulled it from the mess of the sheets. The screen was illuminated with 'GALE'. I clicked decline.

I found I had 7 missed calls from Gale and two texts from Johanna. The first one was from 1:17 am. '_Whr r u?'_ I was either making out with our English teacher or being attacked by my oldest friend.

The second text was from 10 minutes ago. _'Call me when ur up.'_ I dialed.

"Hello?" Johanna answered on the first ring.

"Hey you."

"What _happened _last night?"

"Oh, I don't know… I think I was pretty blasted. It was great, though."

"Yeah, I mean, you seemed pretty hot and heavy with Gale. What happened there, Katniss?" She seemed to be joking around.

"Ugh, Jo, I don't know! It was such a mistake. I totally led him on and it wasn't fair at all. But then he freaked out and…I don't know. I'll talk to him. I don't know."

"Okay, Kat. And, was I really delirious, or was Mr. M. out there with you two?"

"Yeah, funny story… He was there for some engagement party. He…" _I can't tell her. She'll judge me. Or worse- tell someone. I can't tell her. Not yet._ "He was just reprimanding me for being out, there, underage and everything. He was disappointed in me… He expected better."

"Oh. Well, fuck him. You still had a great time. Right?"

"Yes, Jo, it was amazing. Thank you. Really, thank you."

"Anytime, brainless. So what are you up to now?"

I glanced at the clock. 1:47.

"Actually I have a ton of work to do, so I'll be busy for the next few hours. But maybe later this weekend? Text me."

We hung up and I ran to get ready before heading to Vondelpark. I left my hair loose again. I was starting to really like leaving it down. I put on some mascara and eyeliner, finishing off with a bit of red lipstick that Annie had given me for my birthday. It was a rich color, called Russian Red.

I put on a long-sleeved, cream-colored tunic dress. It was warm and cozy but pretty at the same time. I put on knit black tights and my leather boots, finishing with my dad's old hunting jacket.

I looked in the mirror. _Okay, Katniss. You're just going to Vondelpark. No big deal. Just Vondelpark… With your teacher… Who you kissed last night. Several times._

_Deep breath. _


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello, lovelies! Welcome to Chapter Nine! Heads up- I'm posting this hastily to try and please you so I do apologize for any typos/grammatical errors. I know this chapter doesn't give that much progression to the story but you all asked for some lovey-dovey, so I tried? Gotta give a starting thanks to my home-boy, T. S. Eliot. And excerpt of his poem, ****The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock****, is used in this chapter. I suggest you all read it! It's one of my favs (: OkayHereWeGo:**

****Chapter Nine

I arrived at Vondelpark 10 minutes early, leaving me plenty of time to debate whether or not I should leave. I mean, this whole situation was insane. And it was escalating. It should be wrong, but it feels like the rightest thing in my life. Still, every second, I worry about where this will go, who will find out, what they will think…

I sat by the pond, toes of my boots in the water. I lay back, resting my head in my folded palms, and closed my eyes. I tried to concentrate on the constant flow of breath to calm myself down. _In, out, in out._ The late February sun was warm on my frostbitten cheeks.

I was drifting off into a light slumber when I felt it; the softest pressure on my lips. They were met with smooth, firm ones of another's. My eyes fluttered open. _Peeta_.

"Sorry," he smiled, cheekily. "I couldn't help it…"

I reached my arms up, pulling his face back to mine. I dug my fingers into his cheeks, securing his mouth to mine. I kissed him, slow and soft. He pulled me up by my arms to a sitting position, never breaking the kiss. His fingers curled through my hair.

We parted after a minute, both our lips plump from the kiss. I hugged my knees, closing my eyes and trying to savor this feeling for as long as I could. It was magical. It was bliss.

"How was the rest of your evening?" I asked.

"Short. I left soon after you did. I was worrying about you… If you got home safe, if you were away from Gale… If you'd remember this all in the morning."

"I'd never forget," I whispered.

"Maybe so, I had no idea how much you drank. Speaking of…"

_Uh-oh._

"Katniss, you shouldn't be drinking. How did you even get into that bar? It's illegal. You're so young…"

"That didn't stop you last night." _Or twenty seconds ago._

"No,' he said after a pensive pause. "No, it didn't. And it should have. But I can't help it when it comes to you, Katniss. You're… you're perfect."

I shifted on the ground, moving my hips between his legs and leaning back against his chest. He crossed his arms over my torso, holding me there, captive in his grasp. He breathed into my hair, placing butterfly kisses up and down my neck and shoulder. I sighed, sinking deeper into his hold.

"Peeta?" I whispered.

"Yes?"

"What happens on Monday?"

His arms tightened around me; he fingers clasped my stomach.

"I don't know. Do you… do you want to keep going? With this, I mean…"

My heart fluttered. "Yes," I whispered. "I don't want this to end."

He cupped my cheek in his palm, pulling my lips to his. He kissed me tenderly.

"Good," he murmured against my lips. "But I guess, on Monday, I'm your teacher. And you're my student. We have to act like that, at least."

"Are you going to give me better marks now?" I teased.

"Ha! As if you aren't literally at the top of the class. You probably know more than me, Everdeen."

"_Probably_," I joked. We sat for a minute, looking at each other.

* * *

It wasn't until 4:35 that I was once again alerted by Gale's call. Peeta watched as my eyes narrowed and lips pursed. His expression imitated mine when he saw the name on the caller I.D.

"You can answer it," he offered. "If you want…"

"I don't." I said flatly. I was angry with Gale. Yes, I admittedly had used him as a tool to make Peeta jealous, be he had physically threatened me._ But he is a hot head._ Was he simply being protective? _Could he have been… jealous? No, Katniss. He's like your brother. You said so yourself. But- has he ever made the comparison?_

"Katniss, no one should be allowed to threaten you in any way."

"I don't think he was actually trying to hurt me."

"None the less-"

"Don't." I pleaded. "Don't talk to me about Gale. I can't explain it to you. Maybe one day, I can try. But not today. There is too much history between us. Just… Don't. Today was supposed to be about you. _Me and you._"

I leaned in, twisting one hand through his hair and curling the other securely around the back of his neck. We sat there, foreheads, noses, cheeks pressed together. He closed the distance between our lips, applying the softest pressure, both gentle and fervent.

"Me and you," he whispered back.

* * *

We sat by the water for hours, talking a about a lot of nothing and a little of everything.

"Would you…"

"Yes?"

"Could you tell me a poem?"

"Which one?"

"Surprise me," I dared.

He lay back on the ground. I followed, resting my head over his arm and chest, laying a hand on his stomach. His hand rested on mine, the other combed lightly through my hair.

"Let us go then, you and I," he started. I smiled in recognition. "When the evening is spread out against the sky/ Like a patient etherized upon the table;/ Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,/ The muttering retreats/ Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels/ And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells;/ Streets that follow like a tedious argument/ Of insidious intent/ To lead you to an overwhelming question…/ "Oh, do not ask, "What is it?""

"Let us go and make our visit," I whispered the last line with him.

He leaned over, kissing me with such force, such passion, that I thought he might take me there. I sucked on his bottom lip, pulling it between mine. His tongue pushed through, dancing with mine. Our breathing quickened. He ran his fingers ran down my arm, my hip, my thigh… He hooked my leg over his, pulling me on top of him. He nipped on my bottom lip, evoking a soft moan in the back of my throat.

"Katniss," he panted when we finally parted.

My eyes shone down on his. We stayed there, staring at each other, for an eternity.

"Perfect," he whispered to himself eventually, stroking my cheek, enchanted. _Perfect_.

**Who is excited for school on Monday? I know I am!  
Question: Would you prefer chapters to stay this length and keep updates (pretty) frequent, or only one outfit a week with longer chapters? Up to you!**

**Stay classy, kids (;**


	10. Chapter 10

**Woo, longest chapter evuhh! Does this mean you will forgive me for taking a thousand years to write it? (; Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy it. I loved writing it! Review+Favourite+Follow for updates, I promise! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own THG ):): **

****Chapter Ten

I left Peeta in the early evening, both of us heading to our respective engagements. I had succumbed to Jo's texts begging for a study-session. Peeta was meant to be entertaining out-of-town relatives who had come in for tomorrow's family brunch to celebrate his brother's engagement.

We didn't make another time or place to meet. I guess we both figured that we'd be seeing each other at school anyway. How hard would it be to find a private second to talk? We'd done it before.

_School. _A weighty feeling overcame me, retrieving me from my newfound elatedness. _Peeta said it would be okay. _Would it, though? I mean, technically, I _am_ a legal adult. But that doesn't mean Peeta's job won't be jeopardized if our relationship was exposed. I couldn't do that to him… Ruin his career. He loves teaching.

My moral compass was a mess. I was so conflicted with so many aspects of the relationship. Why wasn't I creeped out? _Because I'm in love with him._ Why haven't I told anyone? _Because I'm in love with him._ Do you want to be known as 'that girl who dated her teacher'? _I don't care; as long as I get to be with him. _What if he gets fired? _You''ll sort yourselves out. People who love each other do._

But… what if he isn't in love with me?

_…_

* * *

On Monday, I arrived at school late. Hardly, but significantly enough that I had to wait outside until the anthem was finished. I arrived at the room. The door was shut. I leveled my face with the one clear window and knocked. Once, twice, three times. Peeta- Mr. M.- saw my face and stalked over to open the door.

"Sorry," I mouthed through the glass.

"Detention, Everdeen. My office. After school."

"_What?!" _I shrieked. Detention? I had _never _had a detention.

"Yes. I've warned you enough times. I'll see you at 4:00."

I was frozen. The class was vibrant with whispers. I _do not _get detentions. People know that. I stared at him, incredulous, as he returned to his lecture at the front of the classroom.

"You can take your seat, Everdeen."

I stalked over to my desk next to Jo.

"What the fuck?" she whispered to me.

I nodded my head at her, speechless. Seriously? After Friday night? And Saturday? Now he decides to crack down on my multiple-offense-lateness? I just did not understand.

I stalked out of class as soon as the bell rang, not giving him the chance to hold me back if he wanted to. I didn't look back.

* * *

In biology, we were doing a lab. We were dissecting a cow's liver to extract enzymes and test reaction types. I was good at dissections. I wasn't really bothered by them. Jo, on the other hand, looked nearly ill.

I was finding some refuge in the quiet of scalpels and scissors, when Marvel walked over to my lab bench.

"Oh, great. Now I'm _sure_ I'm going to be sick," Johanna spat at him. She _was_ looking kind of green…

"Screw off, Johanna. I'm not here for _you_." She rolled her eyes.

"I'm going to go throw up, Kat. Better than being near this douche bag."

_What? Johanna! You cannot leave me here!_

Abandoned. Shit.

"Hey, Kitty Kat," he purred.

"Hello." I didn't look away from the liver.

"Heard you got a detention first period? Someone being a bad girl?"

He winked. I gagged.

"Is there something you need?" I asked pointedly.

"No. Just something I _want_." He tugged on the bottom of my braid, just as Peeta had last week.

_Peeta. _Peeta, is my English teacher. Peeta, who embarrassed me in front of everyone. Peeta, who gave me my first detention. Peeta, whose fault it was that I was being harassed by Marvel in bio lab. Peeta, who, two days ago, I was kissing, touching, holding. Peeta, who I'd have to face at 4:00 p.m.

I looked down to find I had absentmindedly butchered my cow's liver.

Oops.

* * *

I watched as my friends and peers shuffled, slowly, out of the building. School ended at 3:15, so I had some waiting around time before 'detention' started. I wandered the halls, crashed some of a debate meeting, and ended up sitting against a locker, parallel to Peeta's office, reading A Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde.

At 4:00 p.m., the door opened.

"Nice choice," I heard.

I stood up, grabbing my bag and dog-earing the page of my book. I looked at him, plainly. He looked back. The vast halls of the school were silent.

"Do you want to come in?" he offered.

I stayed quiet, looking at him for a long time. I tried to figure out what kind of game he was playing. Why was he being so pleasant, so nonchalant? It's as if nothing even happened… As if I was here, 45 minutes late, at my own accord.

I eventually stepped past him, crossing the threshold into his office. It was small, cozy. Papers scattered every inch of the desk's surface. A laptop was open, on sitting on top of a pile of dictionaries and anthologies. The book of Auden sat beside it. I wandered over, picking it up and flipping to the page of our poem.

He watched as a wandered through, circling the little room, inspecting bindings of books, trailing my fingertips down the spines. I stopped when I returned to the front of the room. He shut the door.

"Why?" I asked, abruptly. "Do you really hate that much that I was 30 seconds late? Is that a big enough deal that you want to embarrass me in front of everyone? Pick on me, more than usual? And despite everything that happened in this last week! I mean, this is going to go on my transcript. Not to mention the fact that Marvel basically groped me when he found out in Bio-"

And then he was kissing me. His mouth was flushed against mine. His lips were soft, warm, wet. He grabbed my face in his hands. I clutched his biceps, forearms, elbows, hanging on for dear life. He stepped back, pushing me between his body and the desk. One hand found my hip, the other found my waist, and he hoisted me up, onto the papers and books that adorned the tabletop.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, grabbing my own elbows and he moved his lips to the juncture between my ear and jaw. He sucked and nipped at the skin there. It would surely leave a mark.

I grabbed his jaw with one hand, forcing his lips back to mind. I kissed him tenderly, pulling his bottom lips between mine. My fingers toyed with the top of his belt around his back.

"Un-tuck your shirt," I whispered, "_Mister M."_

He obeyed, pulling it out from his belt with such ferocity that I almost giggled. I heard a low growl emitted from his throat and I clawed my fingers up his back. It was strong and smooth and I could feel his muscles tense as I touched each one.

"Say it again," he demanded.

"Say what," I asked, innocently, "_Mister M?"_

He kissed me so forcefully that I though my lips would bruise. He clenched my hip and my waist. It was when his hips thrusted towards me, hitting my centre, that I took in a gasp. My eyes went wide with lust and excitement and curiosity.

He jumped back, suddenly. I felt cold; incomplete.

"Sorry," he panted.

I breathed heavily, looking at him, clasping the edge of the desk to support myself.

"You… You never answered me."

"When I saw your face, Katniss, I wanted you. Right then, right there. All I could think of was getting you alone. Detention seemed like an innocent and definite way to secure it. It wouldn't raise any questions… People know how I am about tardiness… You handed yourself to me on a silver platter. I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. And I'm sorry if- if you didn't want to come. I just thought that I wanted you so badly, maybe you did, too, and I… It just came out. I'm sorry."

My heart floated; a weight was taken from my chest. My face relaxed; I even smiled. I looked at him; I observed the worry, confusion, panic crossing his face. I opened my arms slightly. He came to me, wrapping his arms under mind, around my torso. He rested his forehead in the crook of my neck.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," he muffled into my shoulder.

I laughed. I felt better. I felt whole.

"Did you not think I'd come if you had simply asked?"

"Katniss… You tempt me. It's like a demon overcomes me. Besides, "The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it,"" he quoted Dorian Gray and smiled, cheekily. I pulled his face back to mine.

**Ta-da! Thoughts? Let me know! Review/PM/favourite/follow for internet hugs!**

**Stay classy, kids (;**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello lovelies! I'm sorry for another long wait but YOU WILL SO TOTALLY THANK ME ONCE YOU READ IT! Not to mention it's nice and long. Sorry for any errors, I am just rushing to get it posted! Have a lovely day and please REVIEW/FAVOURITE/FOLLOW. I was a little disappointed with the number of reviews on the last chapter. Come on, kids! Anyhoo- enjoy the chapter!**

**DISCLAIMER: :( i-do-not-own-the-hunger-games ):**

****CHAPTER ELEVEN

I sat in Peeta's lap at his desk, my legs draped over the side of his chair. His chin rested atop my head as I hummed softly, _Cuckoo! _By Benjamin Britten. It was a sad, beautiful and true melody. His fingers stoked my hair.

"I heard you sing once," he said

"Oh?"

"Yes. At the beginning of the year. Remember when you wrote that test for me, after school? You had missed it for some reason. Anyway, when you were writing, and I was working at my desk, you started singing. Softly. I don't think you even noticed. But it was beautiful. That same song, too."

"I guess it's like my mantra," I said. "My dad used to sing it to me."

We were quiet again, thinking. Both of us lost in separate worlds of imagination and nostalgia.

"Katniss?"

"Hm?"

"What did you say earlier? About Marvel…"

"Before you _ravaged_ me?" I teased.

"Katniss." He was seriously. Deadpan. I buried my face in my shoulder.

"Nothing… He just- he makes _advances_."

"What kind of advances?"

"Nothing physical… Not really. Little things. He calls me 'Kitty Kat'. Says suggestive things. He stokes my arm as he walk by, grazes his body against mine. Plays with my braid."

"You're braid?" he breathed in my ear.

"Yes," I panted, eyes wide and shifting.

"Well, there is something we can do about that… To get him off your back." I felt his fingers pull the tie from the ends of my hair, unweaving and decoding the intricate knotting. When he finished, he pulled it all over to one shoulder, placing a kiss on the exposed side of my neck.

"There," he whispered into my skin. "He doesn't get to touch you, does he?" I closed my eyes as his lips whispered against my shoulder.

"He doesn't get to told you, does he?" My breathing got louder. His hands trailed from my waist to grasp my hips, securely, firmly.

"He doesn't get to call you 'his', does he?"

My eyes shot open. I twisted in his lap, hair splaying against my face, cheeks pink.

"Do _you_?" I asked.

"I'd like to," he whispered, tracing the color in my cheeks. "More than you know." He held my face in palm. He studied my eyes, looking for an answer. "If- if you'll allow it, of course. If that's what you want."

"I want it," I told him, all too quickly. "I've been 'yours' for longer than _you_ know."

He tugged my chin up with his finger and thumb, pulling my face to his and relinquishing the most fervent, searing kiss we had shared. When we eventually parted, I spun back around in his lap, resting my back against his front as I turned my head to place a kiss on the underside of his jaw.

I sighed and leaned my head back, resting it against his. His arms wrapped securely around my torso, mine resting atop his. I stroked up and down his forearms as I looked across the room. A painting caught my eye.

It was beautiful. Rich, lush greens dominated the majority of the canvas. The faded from light to dark, varying by the amount of sunlight and shadow allowed hanging tree branches and towering tulips. Thousand of tiny spotted petal adorned the scene, showing a rainbow of colors of tulip. Off centre was a gravelly path, leading brightly through a sort of tunnel formed by lined trees, the end hinting at a beaming meadow.

"That's beautiful," I commented. His gaze traced mine to the painting on the wall opposite us. "Who is it? It reminds me of Renoir."

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"What… You don't mean? _You_ didn't paint it, did you?"

"Don't sound so surprised! I dabble in art, yes."

"_Dabble_," I scoffed, jumping from his lap to run up to the painting. "Peeta, this- this is the rebirth of impressionism! You could start something. Something _big_. I mean it. This isn't _dabbling_. Why are you still in this building? Shouldn't you be exhibiting right now?"

"Silly girl," he smiled as he followed me to the other side of the room. "If I were exhibiting, how would I get to teach _you_?"

I rolled my eyes and looked back to the painting. It was truly unparalleled by an artist of our time.

"How can you capture such beauty?"

"It's not beautiful. Not even close. Not in comparison to the specimen standing beneath it."

I blushed heavily, looking away.

"That's not true," I said.

"Katniss," he said, holding my face, "You have _no idea_ the effect you have on people."

So I kissed him. I kissed him because he meant it. I kissed him because he wanted it. I kissed him because _I_ wanted it. I wanted nothing more than to ravage his mouth with mine; attack it, encompass it. But instead, I moved slowly, tenderly and amorously. Each movement dragged on, building suspense and yearning between the two of us.

I trailed my fingertips up the tops on him arms, unhurriedly curling my fingers around the collar of his shirt. I looked into his eyes, provoking him as I slowly popped each button from its place, until his shirt lay untucked. He breathing grew louder as his hands found my hips, tightening their grip.

His stomach was strong and smooth, his chest solid. I placed a palm flat against his chest, between his clavicles. I slid the palm down, tracing over the muscles of his pecks, his stomach, his hips. My other hand rested on top of his best buckle, pulling his hips towards mine.

"_Katniss_," he growled between his teeth. "What are you-"

"Shh," I hushed him, placing feather-light kisses on his lips. I took his hands from my hips and pulled them to my thighs. Keeping my palms over his, I trailed them up my legs, under the hem of my deep blue dress. The only thing between our skin was the paper-thin fabric of my black tights.

Suddenly, he grabbed the back of my thighs, hoisting my up and throwing me back down the desk. I giggled, holding him between my legs, pulling his hips closer and closer to mine. His hands trailed under my dress to my hips, eventually grabbing my bare waist. I looked at him, expectantly, waiting for him to make his next move.

Only he didn't, because conflict seemed to form on his beautiful face. His grip on my loosened and his hand started to slip out from my dress.

"No," I said, grabbing the back of his head and forcing his lips against mine. Finally, my tongue found his and he kissed me with such sentiment that I could feel his conflict, his confusion, his want, his desire, his hesitance.

"Peeta," I said, pulling back. "I want this. I want _you_."

I returned my lips to his. My placed my hands on his, the fabric of my dress between them, and pulled them up, leaving his fingers at the bottom of my bra.

"It's okay. You can touch them. I _want_ you to touch them."

He looked at me, struggle written on his face.

"_Touch me, Peeta,_" I whispered, pleading. His lips captured mine and his hands move deliberately to trace all around my breasts. They curled around the sides, traced the bottoms and lingered on the top. I small whimper escaped my mouth. He held them, then, fully in his hands. His thumbs traced over my nipples through my bra. I took in a sharp breath as I felt a bulge in his pants press against my inner thigh.

Peeta jumped back, holding my shoulders at arm's length.

"Katniss," he said, a hint of desperation in his voice, "Open your eyes, please." I did as he asked, to find his gaze awaiting mine. 

"Katniss, I want this _so much_ that I cannot find the words to tell you. But not here. Not now. We should talk about it, and… God, you're beautiful." His kissed me once, twice, three times, pulling back with as much urgency as before. "But Katniss, I don't want to rush this. You're too special. I want to take my time; enjoy every second as much as I can. Not to mention, we are still at school… What if someone caught us just now?

"But…" I started, softly. "But you do want to?" He looked at me, flabbergasted.

"Katniss, I can't recall ever wanting anything or anyone as much as I want you."

"Really?"

His kiss answered it all. _He must love me._

My eyes flickered over to the painting again and I admired the flowers. A certain yellow petal caught my eye and I thought of Prim. _Prim._

"Shit! What time is it?" I asked, panicking.

"4:35."

"Oh. Okay. Um, I have to be home for my sister in a bit."

"Right. Let's wrap up this _detention_, then," he smiled. I stuck my tongue at him. He kissed me, quickly.

"Where is it?" I asked, picking up my book and my bag. "The painting, I mean."

"It's Amsterdam. The Dutch tulip fields in the spring, when they are in bloom. One of those sights that changes your prospective on everything."

I smiled. "I'd love to go to Amsterdam. See the _real_ Vondelpark."

"Katniss… Are you going on the graduation trip?"

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	12. Chapter 12

**Here we go, chapter 12! Sorry it took so long to update. Life is cray-zay but that doesn't mean I don't care about all of you (; I know it's kind of short but I'm going to try and post another update ASAP. Just wanted to give you something for the meantime. **

**Déni de Responsabilité : Je ne possède pas ****Les Jeux de Faim****.**

****Chapter Twelve

"Oh," I said, genuinely taken aback. "I really haven't thought about it."

"Well, I'm chaperoning it this year…"

"Are you?" I asked, intrigued, toying with his re-buttoned shirt buttons.

"Well, maybe think about it?" He held my hand still in his, bringing my fingertips to his lips. "I'd love it if you came, Katniss."

"I'd like to go," I said quietly, leaning in to rest my head against his chest. I clenched fists grasped his waist and his arms held me tightly to him. I sighed, wanting nothing more than to live forever in this moment of bliss, of contentment and of happiness. But I couldn't.

"I really _do_ have to go," I told him, pulling him tighter to me. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," he promised, placing a lingering kiss on my parted lips. My cheeks heated up. I left before it got too hard.

* * *

When I checked my phone after leaving the building, I saw I had two missed calls and one text from Gale. I decided to just call him back. He'd been punished for long enough.

"Catnip?" he panted, answering on the first ring.

"Hi Gale."

"Catnip, my shift got changed to tomorrow afternoon. Can I meet you at Beetee's in twenty?"

"Yeah," I said, "Sure, I'll see you then."

* * *

After calling Prim to tell her I'd be late, I arrived at Beetee's Burgers. I found Gale sitting at out back corner table. Waiting in front of him was an untouched cup of coffee and two chocolate milkshakes. If he was trying to butter me up, it looked like it would work.

"Did you eat my cherry?" I asked as I sat down, noticing an imprint of a red circle in the whipped cream.

"Sorry," he blushed. "I'm not known for patience."

"I know."

"Which made it very hard to wait so long for you to answer my calls, Katniss," he added. "Can we at least talk about what's going on?"

"What _is _going on?"

"Well, I remember two very distinct things from Friday night." His tone changed. His words were clipped with edge. "Firstly, I remember you leading me on, grinding on me, touching me, using me. And disappearing." I looked down at the coffee cup, ripping open a Splenda packet and pouring half into the worn porcelain. I took my time to watch the calorie-free crystals dissolve into the muddy brown liquid.

"Katniss?" he prompted.

"What? What do you want me to say? That I'm sorry for leading you on? Sorry for a drunken laps of judgment? Because, yeah, it _wasn't_ fair of me to do that. But I'm not the only one who went a little crazy under-the-influence, Gale." He looked out the window, refusing to meet my gaze.

"Remember that? Remember shoving me against a brick wall? Remember punching my _teacher_ in the face? Or trying to, at least?" I looked down and saw his hands clenched in fists on the table, the knuckles on his right hand bandaged from where they came in contact with the brick.

"Katniss, I'm sorry," he said. "I should never have touched you. I should never have hurt you. But I was mad. I was mad at you. You led me on, and what? So you could make your _teacher_ jealous? Is that what is going on?" He stared at me, searching my face for answers.

"I'm right, aren't I? That is so fucked _up_, Katniss!" he yelled, pounding his fists hard enough against the table that coffee spewed from the mug. My eyes jolted up to his face, angry and shocked.

"Gale, you don't-"

"No, Katniss! No! It's not fair. I knew you first. I _wanted _you first! I'm not a creepy old _pervert _who wants to take a dip in the fountain of youth! We make sense, Katniss! This… This is fucked up." I sat, jaw wide-open, speechless.

"Yeah, that's the second thing I remember. Watching you sucking face with your English teacher. Was that the first time? Or did it start last week in Vondelpark?" he spat at me, spitefully. "Or has this been going on all year? Is that how Catnip is getting such a high mark?"

It didn't take me long to get the milkshake on to his head and myself out the door. I ran to my car, tears in my eyes and fists waiting for someone to punch. I think I heard Gale call after me, but I wasn't looking for an excuse to stay.

I didn't realize where I was going until I pulled up in front of Peeta's apartment building, where I had dropped him off. I searched the buzzer listings until I found _Mellark 404_ and hit the buzzer three short times. I waited a minute and there was no answer. I hit the buzzer again, my thumb pressing into the little button relentlessly.

"Hello? Hello?!" I heard Peeta yell into the mic.

"It's me," I said.

The door instantly hissed, announcing its acceptance of my entry. I opened it and dashed into the hall, running up the steps, skipping a few of them. Peeta met me at the top of the staircase.

"Katniss, what's-"

I flung myself into his arms, throwing my arms around his neck. A sob wracked through my body, heaving my chest. One of his hands wrapped tightly around my back, the other under my knee to pick me up. He carried me into his apartment, hands gripping the bottoms of my thighs. My face rested in the crook of his neck, salty tears and mascara staining the left shoulder of his white cotton t-shirt. He placed me on my feet once we were in through the doorway, but he never let go of me. Instead, his other arm moved up to grip my waist, pulling me closer.

We stayed there for a while, I don't know how many minutes, until my breathing calmed and eyes stopped watering. He finally pulled back, just enough to see my face.

"Hey," he hushed me, big, warm hands coming to meet my cheeks, thumbs brushing the tears and makeup from under my eyes. I looked into his eyes, finding exactly what I was looking for: care. My hands reached up to pull his face towards mine for a quick, soft kiss.

"Okay, now you _really_ have got to explain yourself, Katniss."

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	13. Chapter 13

**I'M GOING TO CRY because I wrote this chapter and guess what... My computer shut down and I lost the whole thing! UNLUCKY 13! I'm telling you! So I had to rewrite it and I ended up changing it but I think it might have gone even better the second time around! So- yay! But now you're gonna have to wait a little longer for the goods... Sorry! Stay with me ((;** **REVIEW/FOLLOW/FAVORITE! youknowyouwanna.**

**disclaimer: I do not own the hunger games.**

****Chapter Thirteen

I sat curled into the corner of the couch, my toes squished under Peeta's thigh. He sat quietly and thoughtfully as I reiterated my meeting with Gale, sparing no details of his spiteful words, acidic tone and hurtful accusations. Peeta listened supportively, grabbing my hand, stroking my arm here and there and letting out the occasional, _"Oh, Katniss…"_

When I was finished talking, I waited a minute, giving him time to process everything. I could tell he was struggling with something and I wanted to give him the space to deal with it. After a few minutes, though, I became impatient and nudged him with my toes, prompting him to speak and giving him a silent '_Well?'_ with raised eyebrows.

"I'm sorry," he said eventually.

"Yeah, me too…"

"What do you have to be sorry for, Katniss?" His tone was frustrated as he stood up, exasperatedly throwing his arms into the air. "You've done nothing wrong. He verbally- _and physically_ attacked you. You were just defending yourself. Defending me… _My _wrongs. Not yours.

"_Wrongs_?" I drew on his choice of words. Peeta wasn't one to use a word carelessly. Each word was spoken with precision, meaning… He was so verbose. "What have you done wrong? Are you talking about us? This?" I gestured to the space between out bodies frantically.

"Yes, Katniss, I am!" I yelled, then stopped himself, taking a breath and closing his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry," he said again, looking back at me. "This is wrong for you. It's bad. Gale knows it. I know it. Surely, you must, too."

"But it isn't! I can't remember the last thing something felt so _right_!"

"No, Katniss, that doesn't make it _morally _right. Not everything Gale said was true. We both know that. This hasn't been going on for long. You weren't using me for grades. And I wasn't trying to manipulate or take advantage of you. You do know that, don't you?"

"Of course!" I almost shouted, insulted that he felt the need to clarify such a ludicrous suggestion. Didn't he know how much I cared for him? Didn't he know _me_?

"But a lot of what he said _was _right. Something _did_ start last week in the park, didn't it?" I answered him with a look. "You _did _want to make me jealous. You _do _want me and it _is '_creepy' that I want you, too. _Perverted,"_ I heard him whisper under his breath as he turned his back to me.

I wanted to cry. How could he think so lowly of himself? Gale was being an immature, hot-headed asshole. He had said things that he knew would push my buttons and spark a reaction in me. If only he knew the impact they would have on Peeta… He looked so ashamed with himself. I hated the _I _was the reason he felt like this. I only wanted him to be happy. To be happy with _me_. If Gale wanted to ruin that, he seemed to be succeeding.

"Peeta…" I said softly, getting off the couch and extending my arm towards him. As my fingertips grazed his arm, he whipped around to face me, pulling himself just out of my reach. With a confused look, I stepped closer, still reaching towards him, as he stepped back. Then with a hurt look, I repeated the motion, testing this new boundary that reacted like two magnets of the same charge coming too close in contact with each other- repelling.

"Katniss," he whispered, staring at my hand. I lowered it back to my side, examining his expression, his movement, his breath… Waiting for what was coming but praying that it wouldn't.

"Katniss, you were right from the beginning. It has to stop."

It stung. I hit me like a brick falling from a collapsing building. It tore through be like a bullet of shrapnel, breaking into smaller and smaller fragments and ripping me to shreds with it. I used my well-practiced composure to maintain a neutral expression and dry eyes and I spoke.

"Why?" I said, simply.

"Because… I want what's best for you. This would be best for you," he seemed to be struggling for words for once, eyebrows knitting together and face struggling to remain collected.

"_Why_?" I provoked angrily, prompting for the response I deserved, unsure if I still wanted it.

"Because I love you!"

_I knew it_. There it was, just as he was saying goodbye. What I had so longed to hear, what I had felt in return, what had been the focus of my thoughts since nearly September, when this whole cycle of flirtatious exchanges began… It was there for a second.

So I hit him. I slapped him hard across the face, open-palmed and stiff.

"Well, that's great," I said, my tone dripping with biting acid, "Because I fucking love you, too."

The last I saw, he was standing frozen in his place, eyes wide with bewilderment and disbelief. A hand reached up to his cheek to grasp at the likely stinging flesh that was turning a rosy red from the subject of conversation and my physical assault. Just as I turned away from him, savoring a last millisecond, I may have sense a hint of elatedness in his quartz-blue eyes. But maybe I didn't. I ran out the door too soon to be sure.

Slamming it behind me, I stomped towards the staircase, gaining speed as I neared them until I was jogging down the first few steps. That's when I heard the door whip open, slamming against the wall, and heavy, wide footsteps jogging, running, getting louder as they neared me. So I ran down the stairs faster, and Peeta did, too, until he flew by me and spun to face me on the landing between the first and second floor. I bounded into him, thighs, stomach, chest pressing hard against his as my arms flung around his neck to steady myself from the sudden impact. I shifted back, moving so that I could see his face. My arms stayed hanging around his neck loosely, fingertips peeking around the collar of his t-shirt.

My cloudy eyes held his rainy ones and we stood there, unmoving until a loud breath hitched in my throat. And then we both moved to grab each other.

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**And stay classy, kids (;**

**PS: sorry for typos but I just wanted to get up this fucking redo of the chapter asap!**

**PPS: To the ONE anonymous person who keeps writing an essay in reviews about the immorality of this concept: IT. IS. A. STORY. It is NOT real. No one makes you come back every chapter. Obviously, you like it if you keep reading. So stop hate-commenting and admit to yourself you like it. Or, just go away. No one makes you read this. Okay? Don't be a coward and comment anonymously. **


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey babes. I know you waited extremely long for this one, but trust me I am rewarding your patience. Longest chapter yet! And by a margin of like 600 words of something. So, that's good. And the content... Mmm (;**

**Please review/favourite/follow for harder, better, faster, stronger updates! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games**

****Chapter Fourteen

After much heated fumbling of limb and lips, and with extreme effort, we tore ourselves apart for long enough to make it up one and a half flights of stairs, back to Peeta's apartment. I pushed him against the door, not being able to hold back any longer as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and jumped into his hold. I peppered his face with quick, staccato kisses until he captured my mouth with his, pulling me into a long, lengthy kiss. He held me, one hand under my backside and his other hand fumbled blindly for the doorknob.

I guess he found it, because we flew back suddenly, falling through the doorframe. I landed on top of Peeta on my knees, hands of either side of his head. I stared into his eyes, watching shock, confusion, embarrassment and worry all fly in and out of his expression. We both laughed, then, at the insanity and awkwardness of the situation. I placed my palms against his chest, leaning down and collapsing on top of him in a fit of giggles. He laughed, too, arms wrapping loosely around my back and shaking with each chuckle. But then, as our stomach were spasming from the giggles, we could both feel it. We pressed together at our very cores, both gasping at the contact. A lustful veil blanketed us, wrapping us in its electricity.

_Four layers_, I thought. _Four layers of clothing between us. _It felt as though the heat radiating through my body could have incinerated every last morsel.

I sat up on Peet's hips, pushing off his chest. He followed, pulling his torso up, his nose never more than two inches away from mine. He pulled his fingers through my long, tousled hair, pushing it back over my shoulder.

"Katniss," he whispered, "I don't want to pressure you- to make you feel like you _need _to…" His face contorted with anguish and struggle as he tried to find the words to tell me something that I already understood.

"Peeta," my eyes held his as I curled my fingers around the sides of his jaw. "I want you. I've told you before. I'll tell you again. _I. Want. You._" Making the boldest move I can recall, grasped his right hand in both of mine, leading it to the juncture between my thighs and resting it over the apex of my tights. He stiffened and stared at me intently, but I broke our gaze. I leaned in, grazing his ear with my lips.

"Can you feel that, Peeta? Can you _feel_ how much I want you?" I pulled his earlobe between my lips, sucking on it and relishing the tremor I could feel shuddering through his body.

And then I was up, in his arms and over his shoulder. I squealed in delight, holding his back tightly. He dropped me onto a firm mattress and climbed over me, forcing me farther back towards the pillows.

"You're barbaric!" I teased and he crawled over me, looking as if he were a famished lion and I were a plump zebra, waiting to be captured. I grabbed the neck of his shirt and pulled at it until he assisted me in removing it completely. I let out a satisfied moan and he returned to me, hovering his bare torso just inches over mine. He looked down at me with adoring eyes, shining like aquamarine crystals. He looked so elated, so perfectly content, that I didn't know how to reciprocate the look with anything other than a kiss.

I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck and nudged his nose with mine, blinking my eyelashes against his cheeks and grazing my lips up and down his jaw until finally, slowly, I moved a hand into his hair and pulled his head towards me until my lips were on his. I held his lips there, in the steady, forceful hold of mine. His tongue eventually peeked out, begging for access, which I granted enthusiastically. When I pulled back, gasping for breath and regaining thought process, he moved to place hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck. He pulled the collar of my dress aside, exposing my clavicle as he trailed his tongue along the line of my collarbone. I squirmed under him as he returned to the bottom of my throat, kissing his way between my breasts.

Peeta stopped there, resting his chin atop my chest, perched with baleful blue eyes that silently begged me to allow him better access. I grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him off of me, guiding him onto his back. I swung my leg over his hip and moved so that I sat atop him as I fumbled with my dress, sighing and circling my fingertips and the tops of my thighs where they met the hem.

Peeta's hands grabbed my knees and slid up, up my thighs until they grasped my hips. They stopped when they reached the waistband of my tights under my dress. He looked up at me, asking silently for approval to continue. I gave the slightest nod, egging him on as I shimmied my hips out of the silky black stockings. He sat up then, leaning over me so that I laid back on my elbows. I watched as he pulled the tights down to my knees, fingers trailing over the smooth skin of my thighs. He moved his hands to my toes, slowly peeling the sheer fabric from my feet and pulling first the right and then the left leg of the material all the way off my legs.

He found my hands and tugged me upright and onto my knees on the mattress. His chest, stomach, forearms grazed mine and his fingers pulled at the bottom on my dress

"Okay?" His lips whispered against mine. I replied with a kiss.

He pulled the hem of my dress up, inching it ever so slowly over my hips, my belly button, my chest.

"Raise your arms," he told me and I follow, pulling my mellowed fingers from the stretchy knit.

I sat back on my heels, cheeks heating as he looked at me in my undergarments. He just sat, looked. I chuckled nervously, avoiding his gaze that I could feel trying to hold mine. I brought a dainty hand to push my hair out from my ear. He caught my arm there with a strong grip and pulled me to him, his chest was warm against mine as I wrapped my free arm around the back of his shoulder and closed my eyes.

"Katniss," he whispered, his nose touching mine. I opened my eyes to meet his gaze. He looked like he had so much to say, but nothing was coming out. I could feel it all in his eyes. His love, his affection, his idolatry... I could see it. I could _feel_ it. And I knew he must have felt mine, too.

I brought my lips to his and kissed him as I pulled my arm from his grip between us. I slid my hand down his stomach, tracing the distinct lines of his muscle and taking extra care at the pale curls sprinkled above his belt buckle. I brought my other hand down, too, from around his back as I undid the belt and the top button of his jeans, leaving the next move to him. He pulled his mouth from mine and looked at me cautiously questioning.

"Are you-"

"Off," I whispered. "Take them off."

So he slid them down his thighs quickly, kicking the denim restraints from his ankles. He sat on the bed in his black boxer briefs. I sat in my black, lace-trimmed bra and pink cotton underwear. With certain confidence, I moved to sit in his lap. I picked up his hands in mine as he allowed me to take the lead. I trailed his palms up my stomach and sides, higher and higher until they cupped my breasts. He applied he smallest amount of pressure with his fingers and I let out a soft moan, dropping my forehead onto his. I let go of his hands, trusting they wouldn't leave my chest as I reached around behind me and undid the clasp of my bra. It fell, loosened against his fingers, straps slipping down my shoulders and waiting to be taken off.

Applying kisses to the line of my jaw, I felt his fingers grip the material as it slowly was pulled from the skin of my breasts, my nipples sensitive to the friction. Peeta's hands slid back up my sides, slowly rounding, then fully cupping my breasts in his palms. He kissed lower and lower down my neck as he had before, stopping between my breasts. He lowered his torso over mine, pushing back until I was lying flat on the mattress, hair splayed around my head. He laid on top of me as his left hand returned to my right breast, and his right hand cupped my jaw. He looked deeply into my eyes before placing a solemn kiss on my lips, and then he moved his mouth down, down to capture my rleftnipple in his mouth.

I let out a more-than-audible gasp, jerking forward slightly from shock and pleasure alike. My hands moved to curl into his hair, securing his head in its place on my body. He moved, then, to the other breast, creating a sort of rotation between fingers and kisses for the two. My hands slid down his neck and shoulders, holding him there, against me, following him as he eventually returned his face to mine, looking into my eyes and whispering, "I love you."

He kissed my jaw. "I love you." He kissed me throat. "I love you." He kissed each breast, "I love you, I love you." He kissed my chest, "I love you." He kissed my stomach, my naval, my hips, "I love you, I love you, _I love you_," he whispered.

I laid on my elbows, watching his every move with increasing adoration and panic, not knowing what would come next, but wanting it to come, nonetheless. He hooked a finger into either side of my panties, placing a kiss where the cotton seam met my skin.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Yes," I panted, "More than okay."

He moved his lips down, then, placing them against my core.

"Peeta," I cried, hands curling around the soft white bedding. My skin was set alight at the slightest contact, despite the muting of my underwear, which sat low on my hips. "Please," I begged.

"Please what?"

"Please take them off."

"If you say so," he obeyed willingly, slowly passing the material past my hips, and then quickly flinging them from my legs, returning to me.

"No," I protested. "Yours, too." I had noticed the prevalent tenting in his shorts and knew it couldn't have been comfortable. Besides, I wanted him exposed almost as much as he felt the urge to be.

He slid his underwear down his thighs, stepping out of them and returning to me on the bed, into my arms. His gaze never left mine. Standing before me, in the emergent moonlight, he looked more anatomically divine than Michelangelo's David. He was almost glowing, illuminated by the backlight of the night and the heat of the moment. I reached my hands out to him, pulling him into my arms and climbing into his lap. I could feel him against me, _all _of him against _all_ of me. I tenderly kissed his lips before whispering in his ear:

"Touch me," I pleaded.

"Where?" he feigned naivety.

So I took matters into my own hands, literally, grabbing his hand in mine and placing it between our two bodies, at my centre.

"Here," I sighed, pressing my forehead against him and closing my eyes.

Peeta followed, leaning his head into the crook of my neck and pressing his lips to my skin.

"Katniss," he whispered, "I want this, and I know you do, too. And I'm not saying 'no'. But I want this to be… better." He kissed me softly and my eyes fluttered shut. "I don't want this to be a reaction to your displacement with Gale. I want it to be about you, about _us_. I love you."

I brought my hands up to his jaw, studying his eyes and finding what I needed: sincerity. Pending promise. Adoration. Love.

"I love you, too, Peeta Mellark," I said against his lips before pulling him in for another kiss.

**WELL?! Let me know!**

**Stay classy, kids (;**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey there, lovelies! MERRY XMAS! I wanted to give you a little something as my gift to you. Also, I'm going on a family vacation so I won't realistically post until January 5th AT THE EARLIEST! I'm sorry, stay with me! I hope you like this really quick bit. **

****Chapter Fifteen

_I was walking barefoot on springy grass. The sun was burning white, so bright that I brought a hand to shield my eyes. Peeta came into view, then. He was smiling a lazy, lopsided smile that made my heat beat in double time. He walked toward me, hand reached out for mine. I raised my own, fingers inches away when cold, strong grasp squeezed around me. It grabbed my arms in it's own, inhabiting me with cold and ache and isolation._

_"Peeta!" I scream, but no matter how loud I yelled, my voice wasn't there. Peeta watched in anguish as I was dragged away, hand still extended towards me. I could see him mouthing words in desperation._

_"Just wake up, Katniss," I heard him yell in muted tones. "Just wake up," louder and louder._

"Katniss, just wake up!"

My eyes snapped open. _Where am I?_

"Oh, thank God," Peeta breathed into my neck.

_Oh. Right._

I was too shocked from the dream to move. I laid there, eyes wider than a doe's and lips frozen in a firm little 'o'. My whole body was stiff. Nothing wanted to move. I was in lockdown mode.

It wasn't until I felt soothing, warm kisses trailing up and down my neck and shoulder than I let out a very stale breath that I hadn't realized I'd been holding. I brought my hands up my body, feeling my torso, chest, collarbone still warm and in tact. I flipped onto my other side to find Peeta. He took my cheeks in his warm, safe palms and stared at me, studying my eyes, my expressions, my intake and output of breaths. I could feel the stress resonating between my eyebrows.

"Katniss," I closed my eyes at the sound of my name, but quickly reopened them in fear of memory of the cold, strong grasp.

"I'm sorry," I panted.

"Sorry? Why are you sorry?"

"I… Maybe I should have warned you? I'm not a very good sleeper…"

"Does this happen a lot, then?"

"No. Yes- Not every night. Most, probably."

"Katniss, how can you live like that?"

"There's nothing I can do," I smiled halfheartedly. "I'm haunted," I said with a chuckle. I may have said it as a joke, but we could both feel the undertone of belief and sadness in my words.

"Oh, Katniss," he pulled me into his arms. I pressed my cheek against his chest. It burned everywhere our skin made contact; the sweetest, softest fire. I let him hold me, pleased to be in my blissful reality rather than my frightening dream world.

"What time is it?"

"Eight-thirty. You dozed off after… After we…"

"After."

"Yes," he kissed the tip of my nose. "After."

"And you?"

"I just laid with you for a while. I never want to have to leave this spot," he tugged my chin up to his and planted a firm kiss on my lips. I answered eagerly with my own.

"But I eventually got up to do some work. Marking, actually."

"Right… I kind of barged in on your night. Sorry."

"Hey- what did I say about apologizing?"

"I know, sorry!" I smiled, covering my face with my hands.

Peeta groaned and pressed his lips to my jaw.

"Anyway," he said, "That's when I heard you. You were thrashing around and whimpering. You looked so helpless, so captive. I hated it."

"But… When I was sleeping in your arms, I was fine?"

"Yes," he said, piecing together where I was going.

"That's… interesting."

"Katniss, I know this sounds crazy, but- do you? If you ever want to, I mean- Not to try anything-" He stopped and let out a breath, collecting his thoughts. "Katniss, would you like to… Stay?"

"Yes," I said, almost too quickly, "Please."

* * *

I left my mother a voicemail, telling her I'd been working on a project at Johanna's and decided to stay the night. This wasn't unusual for me, so she wouldn't be alarmed. I also texted Jo and asked her to bring my dress I'd left at her house on my birthday. I'd change at her house before school.

Peeta and I sat on his couch eating Chinese food from cliché takeout boxes. The Wedding Planner was on TV. We sat like we had before, my toes curled under his thigh. Only this time was different, because I wore his t-shirt and he wore no shirt. And my tights still laid on his bedroom floor. And my dress, too. And my bra.

I nudged his arm with my knee, smiling. He nudged back, looking at my from the corner of his eye and clicking his chopsticks together. I let out an audible sigh and placed my noodle carton on the table beside me. I leaned over to drop a kiss on his cheek, then move back into my corner. He grabbed my hand and held it between his, absently fiddling my fingers with his own as we both looked at the TV screen with little interest. I moved my hand in his, trailing it slowly up and down his thigh, moving more and more inward, slowly creeping higher.

The muscles in Peeta's arm locked, freezing my hand securely on his thigh between his hands. He looked at me, then, with a hungry look in his eyes. But not for noodles.

"Fuck it," he growled, leaning over me. "Always hated thismovie anyway."

I giggled as he laid his torso over mine, wedging my body between his and the couch, and pulling my mouth to his.

**Ayy there it is. I hope you like it. And I hope it lasts you into the new year. Sorry it's so short! Everyone have a safe and happy holiday and new year! I just want to take a quick second to say how much I appreciate all of you who come back to this story. It started as a nothing for me, but it has grown a huge place in my heart; as have all of you! Thanks for being wonderful and encouraging! Let me know if you have an idea/ something you'd really like to see happen!**

**Stay classy, kids!**


	16. Chapter 16

**HAPPY NEW YEAR, LOVELIES! I hope everyone had a brilliant night and I wish you all the best. I just got home and have a gift for you... Chapter 16. Not that 'juicy' but boy-oh-boy, does it set up some plot. I'll try to update again very soon! Enjoy-**

**Disclaimer: I do not own THG.**

****Chapter Sixteen

I woke up early. Like- _early _early. Like- still-dark-pre-rooster-crow-no-sign-of-sun-early. I guess it's because I had sort of napped, well… crashed, earlier in the evening. And it's not just that I wasn't tired; I was hot. The sticky warmth of Peeta's body cocooned around mine was blissful and beautiful, but also burning hot. I found myself remembering the Survival 101 rule of 'less clothes=more heat'.

I peeled myself from Peeta as slowly as I could, trying my hardest not to disturb him as I padded to the window. The sky was becoming a dull indigo. Streetlights and shop signs flickered and flashed. Lonely cars driven by lonely people curved along the interstate, winding with the broken white stripes and obeying the mundane streetlights. I raised my right hand lazily, absently, to trail a finger along the line of the highway, leaving a smudge of myself on the windowpane from one end to another.

And then I could feel it. Feel _him_. He didn't touch me, didn't speak to me. He was standing near me. I'd never been so conscious of another human being before, as if I had a sixth sense alerting me of Peeta's presence. I reached my left hand back to find his. I cupped his palm in mine, gripping it tightly. He stepped forward so that we looked out the window together.

"Why are you awake?" he asked the sky. "It's so early."

"I like the night," I whispered.

"Hm?" I prompted, stroking his nose along my cheek.

I didn't move my eyes from the city outside as I spoke:

"Night is my sister, and how deep in love,  
How drowned in love and weedily washed ashore,  
There to be fretted by the drag and shove  
At the tide's edge, I lie—these things and more:"

I could feel his smile against my face as he recognized the words. Peeta moved to behind me, wrapping his arms around mine, around me, chin on my shoulder, lips at my ear.

"Go on," he whispered, sending shivers of delight down my spine.

"Whose arm alone between me and the sand…" I gripped his forearms. "Whose voice alone, whose pitiful breath brought near," he breathed an audible sigh into my ear and he buried his face into my hair. "Could thaw these nostrils and unlock this hand," I freed myself from his grip, unwrapping his arms from my body and turning from the window to face him. I leaned in, my lips ghosting over his ear. "She could advise you, should you care to hear."

"Small chance, however, in a storm so black/ A man will leave his friendly fire and snug," Peeta answered with the next couplet, staring at me with a sad smile.

"For a drowned woman's sake, and bring her back," I trailed my fingertips under his eyes.

"To drip and scatter shells upon the rug," he took my fingers and brought them to his lips.

Pulling my hand back and returning my gaze to the window, I finished. "No one but Night, with tears on her dark face/ Watches beside me in this windy place."

It was silent for a minute, both of us inhabited by the words and victimized by the night, slowly turning to day. Night, when we were but each other's. Day, when we were surreptitiously tainted; either tainting the other.

"Katniss," he whispered, trailing his fingers quickly up my arm to rest upon my shoulder. I looked back at him, pleading eyes. "I'll prove more cunning that the night."

I looked at him solemnly. _I know,_ I thought. I wanted to believe it. I really did. But how could I be sure? So I didn't say anything. I just looked at him, raised a palm to his cheek and left my unsaid words lingering in the small space between us. He turned his head to kiss my palm and pulled me against him.

* * *

Later that morning, a _lot _later, I said across the room from Peeta (currently Mr. Mellark). I slipped into the classroom two minutes before the bell. Dropping into my desk, I flashed Peeta a quick, sly smile before turning to my backpack to retrieve my copy of Dorian Gray. Jo sat, too, chattering away about Jordan Thresh and whether or not he'd ask her to the school's semi-formal dance.

"Wait-" I interjected.

"You think he'll ask Zoey, don't you?" She threw her head onto the desktop. "Ugh, I _knew _it. Backstabbing, conniving, bit-"

"_Jo!_ I wasn't going to say anything about Zoey. Jordan likes you. He's liked you since second grade when he dipped your hair in blue paint."

"Oh. Well, he _did_ say it matched my eyes," she swooned.

"I was just going to ask about the dance… When is it?"

"Katniss, they have been selling tickets for weeks and the lockers are covered in posters! You know, you say you don't like the nickname 'Brainless' but it is just _so_ appropriate sometimes!"

I opened my mouth to retort just as the anthem came on. No way was I gambling at another detention.

_Well, on the other hand…_

We stood by our desks, waiting for the amateur choral lulls of the national anthem to boom through the school. Once we sat down again, Peeta got up to begin his lecture.

_Just tell me the date, _I scrawled on the edge of my notebook.

_Friday. This Friday. The 25__th__, _She wrote back._ Why? Planning on asking someone?_

_Nope, _I replied quickly. I was with Peeta, and I'm pretty sure that was exclusive based on 1) My feelings and 2) Last night's confessions and 3) Peeta's reaction to Marvel.

_Well, if you're lucky, Mr. M. will be chaperoning ;)_ _!_

"Johanna Elizabeth Mason, this is the last-" I began in a harsh whisper before spotting Peeta approaching from the corner of my laser-burning stare at Johanna.

"Ladies," he started in a light tone. I quickly straightened myself out and turned so that I wasn't practically sitting in Jo's lap. "I should hope that those are highly detailed notes on this lesson.

"Yes, sir," Johanna said confidently.

"And I'd suppose the only reason Ms. Everdeen was speaking was because you two were in the middle of a passionate debate regarding your respective preferred types of poetic rhythms?

"Yes, sir," she said again.

"Care to tell us, either of you, your opinions?"

"Well," I interjected, "Johanna likes dactylic dimeter, which I was arguing as _clearly _inferior to the timeless classic, iambic pentameter."

"I see," he smirked. "And your favorite line of iambic pentemeter, then?"

"To be or not to be, that is the question."

"Classic," he said, smiling cheekily.

"Classic," I agreed, nodding.

"Anyone else have a preferred rhythm?" he returned to addressing the class. My cheeks were heated from being caught, being in the spotlight, and talking to Peeta while consciously keeping the standard student-teacher relationship charade. Johanna just threw me a sarcastic, knowing look and uncapped her pen to transcribe.

_How much has she got figured out?_

**So who is excited for semi?! I know I am! It's getting hot in here (so hot)!  
Anyhoo, I look forward to your BEAUTIFUL REVIEWS!  
Stay classy kids (;**


	17. Chapter 17

**I AM SO SORRY. I know it's been forever. Stay with me, I have a few tricks up my sleeve! I really love all of you for sticking with this, and if you don't... I'll probably still love you anyway. Just keep coming back and all you dreams will come true.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own THG. **

Chapter Seventeen

I could feel it all day. Jo was dropping hints, saying things suggestive, if not inappropriate, about Peeta, and then going silent. In Biology, she kept asking about why I'd needed those clothes. At lunch, she barely talked to me at all. On the walk home, she kept asking about who I was hoping to go to the dance with. I expected she was on to something.

I didn't expect she would address it so blatantly.

"So," she started as I turned to unlock my car. "When are you planning on telling me that you're fucking our AP English teacher?"

My hand froze around the door handle. Blood flushed my cheeks and I shook my head, as if I could shake the words into sense.

"Jo… I'm not _fucking_ him."

"No, really. Because I'm ready to talk about it when you are."

She looked so calm, so poignant. She didn't seem to be angry or appalled, just… miffed.

"Do you want to…" I tried to collect my thoughts and my words. "Tea?"

"'Kay," she piped, getting into the passenger seat.

* * *

We sat in one of the few tables at out favourite spot to wind down, FruiTea.

I stirred a spoon in my cup of Goji Haze, avoiding her eyes. I could feel her gaze, penetrating my skin, burning holes through my cranium. She sighed and strummed her fingers on the ceramic tabletop once, as if creating a drum roll for my awaited alibi. _It won't disappoint_, I thought. I collected myself with a sharp inhale through my nose, and envisioned the curtain opening.

"I guess it stared last Tuesday," I started, looking up to her patience gaze. _Tuesday? Could that have been right? That would make it only one week, today. So much time… So much _life_ had elapsed since._

"I was in Vondelpark with Gale and he just… Showed up. From nowhere."

"Do you think he followed you there?"

"No, I-" _Did I? Would he have? _"No. No, of course not. Just wait and trust me. It will come together. I was there with Gale. We had gone to our spot by the pond after we left Beetee's. And then, I heard him call me. I think he had just been walking. It was really warm last Tuesday, remember?"

"Yeah," she prompted.

"So, Gale left eventually. And Peeta asked if I minded if he stayed. Of course I didn't. Jo, you _know_. You know that I really like him." _She doesn't know you love him._ "So he stayed. We talked. It was really nice. But then, he reached out and kind of held my hand, resting his on mine," I blushed at the memory. "And he asked me if I was okay with it. I didn't- don't feel at all taken advantage of or anything. It's so… mutual. If not more wanting on my part."

We both smiled as she nudged my calf with the toe of her boot.

"And then what?" she asked excitedly, as if I was repeating the plot line of yesterday's The Young and the Restless.

"He handed me this book of Auden."

"Auden-that-poet-you-like-Auden?"

"Yes, Jo, Auden-that-poet-I-like."

"How did he know?"

"He didn't. I don't think. I may have mentioned Auden in class or something, but he just likes Auden, too. He had that book with him, which I guess he was planning to read before you happened to bump into me."

"Ugh, I bet you two get off on poetry. So vanilla and fluffy… Gross," she shook her head. I stuck my tongue out at her.

"So, basically, there was this poem that was dog-eared and some lines were underlined and I kind of freaked out. Because they were… Heavy. And, it was my favourite poem, too… My favourite lines. It's crazy that we are so in sync…" I trailed off, delving into the memory of our young relationship.

"Brainless!" she snapped her fingers in front of my face.

"Yeah. Sorry."

"So, then…"

"Well, I kind of freaked out. I got nervous. I worried about him, about me, about what it could do to us. So I went to him first thing Wednesday and told him it had to end."

"You _what?_" she yelled, attracting the attention of several staff members and customers.

"Shh! I said to wait!"

"I'm really not as patient as I let on, Katniss."

"I know," I sighed.

"So… Is that why you were so bummed out last week?"

"Yeah. Wednesday and Thursday were kind of shit. Until you sort of saved me."

"Me? And how did I do that?"

"You reminded me about my birthday. 18. _Legal_. I hadn't thought about that before. I mean, sure, it didn't make things a-okay to yell from rooftops, but I can't conceivably see it ruining anything for either of us if the school were to find out."

"A-hah," she noted.

"And then Prim gave me that beautiful dress and you… Took me to that club. And maybe I should buy a God-damned lottery ticket because what are the chances of him ending up there, too?!"

"Astronomical," she said.

"Right. Astronomical. But he _was _there."

"So, did he see you with-"

"Gale, yes. For the second time, too. And I'd told him we were friends. But he didn't seem too happy. So we kind of fought and then… And then he told me he wanted me. _Only_ me. And he was hesitant because he was worried about hurting me, about causing me trouble. But I wanted him, too, Jo. I really did. I really _do_. So I kissed him. And it was amazing."

She smiled.

"But then Gale ruined it," I spat, bitterly. "He tried to punch Peeta-"

"Peeta?"

"Um… Mr. M.," I blushed, giggling nervously as she cocked an eyebrow.

"And then he shook me, pushed me against the wall. And then you came out. And then, shit was crazy. So when you went to put Gale in a cab, we arranged to meet at the park again on Saturday."

"What did you two do?"

"We just… Sat. We talked. We kissed. We got to know each other. A lot."

"And what did you learn, Kat?"

"How _much _I like him!"

"Why?" she asked.

"Why what?"

"Why _do _you like him?"

"He… He isn't just smart. He's _stimulating_. Whatever he says, it provokes something in me that wants to both retort _and_ write down his words so I don't forget their elegance. He's intellectual. He's verbose. Every word that comes from his mouth is planned and tortures me with its beautiful, brutal simplicity and accuracy. He worries about me but doesn't try to constrain me. He cares about me. He comforts me. He… He _loves_ me, Jo. He loves me. And I love him, too."

We sat for a while, both of us needing to absorb my words.

"You said… That this started last Tuesday," she stated.

"Yeah."

"Kat, I think he made the first move on Tuesday. I think this started a long time ago. I think this started the day you walked into that class and said-"

"I think I'm gonna like it here," I finished as we laughed at the memory. But then things got quiet.

"Kat," she said seriously. "I'm… I'm okay with it. I just want to be there for you. So don't keep me in the dark. Because I'm not here to judge you. I'm here to support you. I'm to be your friend."

"Oh, Jo…" I moved in for a hug.

* * *

I finished telling her about my less-than-beneficial coffee with Gale, my mini breakdown and almost breakup with Peeta and the unforeseen night in his bed.

"So that's why you needed those clothes?"

"Yup," I popped the 'p'.

"A walk of shame outfit?"

"Yup."

"From a Monday night booty call?"

"Well-"

"With you high school English teacher?!"

"Jo, you-"

"KAT! This is So. Bad. Ass! Dirty slut!"

"Hey," I warned leaning in to shove her shoulder.

"Don't deny it!"

I just stuck out my tongue again. I'd learned to pick my fights.

"And… What about Gale? What about your Tuesday afternoon coffee?"

_Shit._

**Review and I'll grant you three wishes (but no wishing for love, money or more wishes...)**

**Stay class kids! (;**


	18. Chapter 18

**I AM WORKING HARD FOR YOU, MY LOVELIES! Hope you like this update! I had fun writing it. Whose excited for the school dance? I sure am!  
Remeber: .FOLLOW for 3 wishes (no wishing for money/love/more wishes.. DUH)!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own THG. **

****Chapter Eighteen

It was tough to accept that I hadn't heard from Gale. I mean, I was still mad but why hadn't he even tried to call or text? I wasn't going to beg for an apology but it wouldn't hurt if he at least offered one for me to consider!

Then, there was the problem that he _knew_. Gale had seen Peeta kissing me. He didn't know who initiated it, or how far it went, but he knew nonetheless.

_Peeta. _We hadn't had any time alone since Tuesday morning, before I left his place. A full three days later, I was going mental.

I let out a groan, closing my eyes and resting my forehead on my folded arms.

"Problem, Ms. Everdeen?"

I jolted up, reminded of where I was. Peeta stood a mere six feet away, expression somewhere between annoyance and amusement. _A problem? Yeah, where should I start?_

Then an idea popped into my head.

"Actually, yes." This caught the attention of most of my classmates. Peeta pursed his lips and squared his shoulders, preparing for attack.

"And what is that?" he asked, sharply.

_Come up with something, Katniss. What is bad enough for detention but not _that_ bad?_

"I am- _So. Fucking. Done. _with high school," I whined in my best annoying-teenager voice, pouting my lips extra far and knitting my eyebrows together. There was a chorus of chuckles, nods of sympathy and declarations of similar content. I raised a quick eyebrow at Peeta as if to say, "I dare you."

"Lucky for you, Everdeen, you're a matter of months from the end of this labyrinth. However, you're a matter of hours from a detention. I'll see you at 4:00pm."

I groaned in fake protest, returning my forehead to the desktop. Johanna patted my back.

"Sharp," he added.

_And the Oscar goes to…_

* * *

Four o'clock did not come soon enough. I barely made it through Bio. Marvel was hanging all over me incessantly, hitting me with crumpled up 'love' notes and repeatedly assuring himself that I would be at the dance tonight.

"Wear something nice," he'd said as I headed for the door after class. "On second thought, don't wear anything at all." He winked. I gave chivalry a moment of silence.

It didn't help that Johanna spent the whole period flirting with Thresh. So much for moral support.

I sat against the lockers next to Peeta's office with my headphones in, listening to 'Last Nite' by The Strokes. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, trying to concentrate on the rhythm of my breath. I was _really_ excited to get some alone time with Peeta.

I didn't notice Peeta had arrived until my earbuds were pulled from my ears.

"Hey!" I protested.

Peeta didn't wait. He sauntered into his office, singing the song as he walked.

"In spaceships, they won't understand! And me, I ain't ever gonna understaaaand!" I followed him into the office and scoffed.

"Good thing you didn't pursue a music career."

"Nope," he smiled a heart-melting smile. I leaned back against the door, pushing it shut. "I'll leave that to you."

I rolled my eyes and opening my mouth to retort, but my words were obstructed by hips lips. I didn't exactly mind. He kissed me quickly, over and over with exuberance and anticipation and longing. I reciprocated.

"Nice plan," Peeta murmured, nipping at my bottom lip. "You could have let me in on it."

"No," I sad. "I needed the reaction to be _organic."_ He smiled against my skin, trailing his lips down my chin, my neck, landing at the pulse point between my throat and collarbone. He sucked gently at the skin.

_"Besides,"_ I breathed, "It was a spur-of-the-moment decision."

"Felt like being sassy?" his teeth grazed back up my neck.

"No," I whispered against his lips. "I needed to get you alone."

_"_It has certainly been long." I kissed him again, my tongue finding his. "_Too_ long," he groaned.

"Wait," I muttered against his mouth. He kissed me harder. "Wait, wait, wait!" I pressed my hands against his chest, pushing him off of me. He looked confused; worried he'd done something wrong.

"Just-" I panted, slightly breathless, "Lock the door!"

He smiled and obliged, then pulled me back into his arms.

* * *

Peeta sat in his chair and I lounged on top of the desk, swinging my right leg and he stroked his fingers up and down my left calf, tracing the abstract pattern on my printed skinny jeans. My boots lay kicked in a corner, my sock-clad foot rested high on his right thigh.

"So…" I started.

"So?" Peeta pushed his fingers up the hem of my jeans, stroking my ankle. _Only Peeta can turn me on by touching my _ankle.

"Are you- Are we- I mean…" I was really struggling here. _Spit it out, Katniss. _"Are you my… boyfriend?"

He let out a low chuckle, and leaned in, pressing his forehead against mine and looking right into my eyes.

"Do you _want_ me to be your boyfriend? I'm not much of a boy…"

"You know what I mean," I nudged him on the shoulder, pushing him away from me and rolling my eyes.

"Katniss," he pleaded, "I want to be _so _much _more_ than your _boyfriend_." The word spilled awkwardly from his mouth, like it was from a foreign tongue. He placed his large hands on my shoulders and shifted slightly to meet my eye line. I peered at him through my lashes. "I want to be your _everything_, Katniss. I want to be your happiness and your rock and your sun and your _love_." I smiled. "And your _life_," he added softly. "I want to be _yours. J_ust... _yours_."

He leaned in to kiss me, but I turned my head just in time for his lips to land on my cheek.

"That's a lot to ask for," I whispered, teasing to cover my nerves. I was smiling so wide my jaw hurt, unable to keep up my coy façade of indifference. As if I wanted anything _but_ him.

"You're mean," he breathed in my ear, teeth grazing my earlobe, slowly biting down. I let out a quick whimper from the pressure. Whipping my head to face him, I took in a sharp breath.

"Love me, anyway?" I breathed.

"Hmm," the sound came from deep in his chest. "_That's a lot to ask for_," he mimicked my words.

I brought my palms up to cup his cheeks, rubbing my fingers over his cheekbones a few extra times.

"Your beard is growing back," I noted.

"Yeah," he sighed, "The girl I'm in love with mentioned that she liked it." I pressed my lips to his, closing all space between us.

"Yeah," I whispered between kisses, "The girl that's in love with you likes it."

He pulled my face back to his.

**Okay, we are finally making it to the dance (almost...)  
C'mon, you love me anyway^^^**

**Stay classy, kids (;**


	19. Chapter 19

**I MADE THE TOUGH CHOICE between finishing this whole chapter and making it uber long, or posting the first half now. And then a very lovely Lulu655397 reviewed asking me to "Please! Update! Now!" So, Lulu, this is for you. The first half. It's not long at all, but it'll give you a taste of what's coming. If any of you have an issue with this, take it up with Lulu655397. Should I say it one more time? Lulu655397. LOVE YOU ALL :* **

**I do not own THG. **

********

Chapter Nineteen

I drove home subdued, crashed and crushed from my absolute high of being with Peeta. Sure, I'd see him in a couple hours at the dance. But that was it. I'd _see_ him. Nothing more. I just wanted to dance, drink, _be_ with him. But instead, he's get to watch me have fun with my friends. After all, that was his job; to watch. He was chaperoning. He'd told me:

"Every teacher has to do at least one event a year," he'd explained. "And I am well overdue. Besides, this way I'll get to keep and eye on you… And keep you away from _Marvel_," he'd said the name with such disdain that I couldn't suppress a chuckle. He'd stoked my cheek and I had sighed.

"You know I'll be watching you," he'd said.

"You know I'll be watching you, watching me." I was still sitting on the desk, facing him. I'd kicked him lightly, one, twice, three taps on the knee. My pressured smiled faded and my heart pounded with sadness and want. _I wish we didn't have to pretend._

"Hey," he'd cupped my cheek, pulling my gaze to his. He'd leaned in pressing his forehead to mine. "We could have our own dance… after. Low lighting, cheesy music, I can even make punch... Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect," I'd whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before jumping off the desk to collect my boots. After they were laced, I slumped against the doorframe, watching him scuffle in his chair as he searched for something in the mess.

"You have to clean this up…" I'd said for the fiftieth time.

"Yeah, yeah," he waved my words away, retrieving a simple white envelope from between some stacks of essays and handed it to me.

"Read it before you leave for the dance," he'd asked solemnly. I'd pressed the paper between my palms and my breast, studying his expression. He'd looked so sad, as if he wanted to take me out as much as I wanted him to. _No, that isn't possible._

So instead of lying to him that it was okay or admitting how much it saddened me, I curled my hands around his shoulders, pulling him down to my level and kissing him with fervor.

"I love you," we'd whispered against each other's lips as the kiss broke, both of us panting and laughing.

"I should go…" I said reluctantly.

"Yes, you should. I'll see you tonight. Try not to look too heartbreakingly-beautiful, love."

I'd bit my lip in lame attempt to minimize my effervescent smile, turning to leave.

"And Katniss?" I'd turned back.

"Try not to look so happy either; you're a girl leaving a Friday afternoon detention before a school function." He'd winked. I'd swooned.

* * *

"_Sleeping at Jo's after the dance. See you tom._" I texted my mom, securing my plans with Peeta for later.

"_Hi qt. School dance tonight. Won't see you. Be in touch XX,_" I sent Prim.

"_I hate you; how could you?" _I had composed in a message to Gale, and texts of similar context, all day. I hadn't had the courage to hit 'Send' on any of them.

I groaned audibly in frustration, cranking up the music on my stereo in attempt to drown out my angsty mind. I sang along as I dressed, thankful that no one was home to witness my embarrassing karaoke moment.

"His Honour drove southward seeking exotica/ Down to the Pueblo hearts of New Mexico/ Cut his teeth on turquoise harmonicas, oo-oo-ooh!" I couldn't help it. The flittering synths of Vampire Weekend's A-Punk made my heart soar!

I pulled on my dress, black vinyl with a fitted bodice. There was a 'V' shaped cutout that dipped from my collarbones to above my bellybutton, covering the skin with sheer material. It flared softly at the hips, flowing nicely when I twirled. It was the perfect balance between playful and sexy. I slipped on my bright-pink pumps for some color. My hair fell in loose waves down my back, my makeup was simple everywhere except my lips, a deep aubergine.

I looked at myself in the mirror, eyes slowly rolling over each limb, each finger, each facial feature. I almost didn't recognize myself. I looked so energized, so alive, so… seductive. Whatever Peeta was bringing out in my, I liked it. I blushed at the thought of Peeta and averted my eyes from my reflection, gaze landing on the envelope waiting for me on the counter.

I took the paper and wobbled over to my bed in my heels. _Okay, seductive until you move, maybe…_ I sat on the edge of the mattress and flipped the envelope over, slipping a pinky under the flap and gliding it smoothly across. I pulled out a white sheet of paper, stained with loopy, black cursive that I recognized instantly.

"Katniss," it said:

_Wild nights! Wild nights!_

_Were I with thee,_

_Wild nights should be_

_Our luxury!_

_Futile the winds _

_To a heart in port,_

_Done with the compass, _

_Done with the chart._

_Rowing in Eden! _

_Ah! the sea! _

_Might I but moor _

_To-night in thee!_

_-I'll want you more than oxygen tonight. I love you._

It wasn't signed. I let out the girliest sigh of my life, falling back onto the bed with stars and hearts obstructing my vision. _Damn you, Peeta. How can you throw a curveball like that? I'm supposed to be trying to get through the dance with only appropriate thoughts. Dickenson poems with sexual undertones are the bane of my efforts._

Jo and I had agreed I'd go to her house before the dance. She lets me park on her driveway overnight and I needed a place to ditch my car due to my Impromptu-After-Party at Peeta's place. I decided to discard all efforts to restrict 'inappropriate' thoughts about my teacher and succumb to the inevitability of my lust. I was going to be at his place in a matter of hours. There was no denying the situation.

* * *

School-sanction or not, there was no way any teenager was realistically attending the dance sober. There was an unspoken contract between students to drink, but only enough to have a good time. The moment any staff member caught on, the dance would be shut down.

"And there is no way I'll be able to get with Thresh without some liquid-courage," Jo had reminded me.

A knife a jealously pained me as I imagined Jo touching, holding, _being_ with Thresh. My earlier sadness hit me all over again and I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around Peeta's neck and lose myself somewhere between the music and his eyes. Jo must have caught my vibe because she pulled me to her room and went straight for the XYZ.

'The XYZ' was an old copy of the last book of an encyclopedia set Jo had bought at a garage sale a couple years back. We spent a whole Sunday cutting a deep rectangle inside the book; that was where we'd stash our alcohol. We'd stashed it in the back corner of the top shelf of her closet, under a pile of old plush toys where Snowflake the Bear, Holly the Dolly and an assortment of other characters acted as protection. 15 minutes and 3 shots each later, we were starting our short walk to the school.

**k sorry again that it was pretty short and not the juicy, like, at all... more coming I actually swear!  
LIKE OMG CAN YOU BELIEVE WE ARE NINETEEN CHAPTERS IN!? ****NINETEEN.  
REVIEW/FOLLOW/FAVOURITE FOR LOVE AND UPDATES. AND THREE WISHES.**

******STAY CLASSY, KIDS (;**


	20. Chapter 20

**Like... I owe you an apology. Because this has been finished for quiet a few days. But- like- you're going to love it. Because I think it's my favourite yet. So... Forgive me? (; LOVE YOU TOO! Also, shout out to Sarah, who said, "I fucking love your authors notes. Basically demonstrating that you give zero fucks. Respect." Sarah, idk who you are but, yeah, you got the gist of it. And thanks!**

**I do not own THG. Or a cat. Which sucks, cuz I really want one. Can anyone help me out?**

**OMG WAIT just realized we are at chapter twenty, say whaaaat?**

We entered the gym, which had been transformed into a makeshift 'club' scene. Glow-in-the-dark banners painted by students featured words like '#YOLO' and 'DANCE 'TIL DAWN', which I chuckled at because the chance shut down promptly at 10. When we got there, it was already in full swing. The DJ was blaring a dubstep remix of We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together, which I had to admit was pretty amazing.

I saw kids grinding ill-lit corners. I saw Student Council members handing out water bottles. Then I saw Peeta, leaning against the back wall. The strobe lights came on. _Flick._ He was twenty feet away. _Flick._ Fifteen feet away. _Flick. _Ten, eight, five feet away. _Flick._

"Evening, ladies," he smiled knowingly. I bit my lip to swallow back every impulse my body was giving me.

"Hey, Mr. _Mellark!" _Jo screeched a little too loud, but no one noticed in the deafening bass that blared through the gym. Peeta gaze flickered from Jo's face to mine and he raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Hello," I mouthed under the music, hoping the dim lighting would conceal my heavy blush. I wanted to tell him how good he looked in that white button-up. I wanted to grab his black tie and yank his mouth to mine. I wanted to run my hands through his perfectly styled hair.

So instead I ran.

"I'll put out coats in my locker!" I called in Jo's ear, pulling hers off her arms and giving Peeta a polite smile. He didn't return it though; he had an odd frown on his face as I turned in the direction of the doors.

I took my time getting to my locker. It was on the direct opposite corner from the school gym, and up a flight of stairs. My heels were definitely slowing my down. By the time I got to the staircase, I slipped out of the death traps and hooked them on my fingers, swaying my arms as I padded barefoot down the halls. I shoved the coats into my locker and put down the shoes. I took a quick scan of the hallway, making sure I was totally alone, before stretching out my arms and doing three cartwheels down the empty lane.

I landed on my butt with an '_oomph!' _and my hair flipped over my face. I giggled to myself got up, twirling a couple times and stopping when my back his the door to Peeta's classroom. Somewhere through the buzz of the alcohol, my hand found the doorknob and, to my surprise, it was unlocked. With another quick area check, I creaked the door open and snuck into my English room.

Locating my target, I tiptoed across the dark room to the edge of the board, where I found some broken sticks of chalk. I stared at my blank canvas, mulling over my options of messages I could leave that could be there by coincidence, but Peeta would recognize. I settled on one of my favourite Eliot lines:

_"Do I dare disturb the universe?"_

I knew Peeta liked it, too. We'd discussed Prufrock several times, both in and out of class. I was admiring my work when I heard the tapping of shoes against the linoleum floors of the school hallway. I flattened my back against the wall next to the door, hopeful that whoever it was wouldn't notice I'd left the door slightly ajar. I heard the footstops suddenly halt, and the sound of material sliding.

_Fuck. My shoes._

The footsteps started again, growing louder and louder, halting at the open door. I held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut, praying it wouldn't be Marvel.

"Hello, Cinderella," said the figure silhouetted in the light of the hallway.

I let out a shaky laugh. _Peeta_.

He walked through the threshold and I ran to meet him at the entrance, pressing my body against his and reaching behind him to pull the door shut.

"Thank God it's you," I whispered against his lips. "I thought you were _Marvel!_" I threw my hands out eccentrically, spinning away from him to walk deeper into the room, when he reached out and grabbed my wrist.

"Hey," he said sternly, pulling me closer to him. He grabbed my jaw and searched my face carefully. "How much, Katniss?"

"What?"

"How much did you drink? How drunk are you?"

"Not!" I protested. He raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Well, not really. Just… you know, barely tipsy." It was true. I had a poor sense of equilibrium to start, and it didn't feel much worse than ever. The room wasn't spinning and I could still recite the first 37 digits of pi if someone had asked me to.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I'm just worried about you. Drunk, and in these shoes-" he waved them in my face and I grabbed them. "I wasn't sure if you'd make it upstairs."

"Well, clearly, I did. So you can go now." I snapped.

He looked at me, first upset, then angry and eventually turned towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" I called angrily as I hadn't been expecting him to actually leave. I grabbed him by his tie, yanking him back towards me.

"Katniss-"

"No!" I pulled harder, latching onto the tie with both fists, forcing him towards me. "You don't get to do that! You don't get to baby me and tease me and act like I need a watchdog. You're not my _keeper_, Peeta. I can take care of myself. I fucking love you, God-dammit, but I am a legal adult and you have to _remember_ that!"

"Katniss, do you think I'm _babysitting _you? Of course I know how mature you are! I know that you can take care of yourself! Do you think I'm here to patronize you? I worry about you because I _love_ you, not because I think you need my 'keeping'." He spat the last word. I stood speechless our outbursts, blinking rapidly, my mouth in an 'o'.

"Katniss," he said softer, his voice strained, "Would I do this to you if I thought you were a child?" His hands held mine that were still holding his tie, trailing up my arms and down to my hips.

"Or this?" They came around to cup my backside and gently squeeze. I gasped in the darkness.

"Or… this?" He said it so innocently that the contrast between his words and actions was sinister. He gripped the backs of my thighs tightly, pulling me up into his arms and crushing my lips, chest, hips to his. He kissed me with fervor, with remnant anger and frustration and… Love. He pulled me over to his desk and placed me on it. His hands squeezed the tops of my thighs, trailing up, up, to the line of my panties as he hooked his fingers into the delicate material. I kissed him harder, encouraging him, as he quickly lifted me to slide the material from my hips and down my knees, where I kicked them off. His mouth trailed down to my neck and he pushed my hair back, finding his canvas to make a mark.

He nipped and sucked at the skin where the edge of my neck met my collarbone. I moaned softly, grabbing him by his hair and pulling his mouth back to mine. I scooted farther off the desk, closer to him, grinding my bare hips against his clothed ones.

"_Fuck!_" he breathed into my mouth. I melted at how beautiful the dirty word sounded coming from his lips.

I moaned again, but in anticipation this time, letting him know I wanted more. He kissed me again, hands sliding up my smooth legs, higher and higher, until his palm was flat against my centre and he stroked me slowly with two fingers.

"Oh!" I let out and exasperated sigh of pure pleasure.

He grabbed my face in both his hands, eyes searching mine frantically. His pulled my mouth to his for a tender, lingering kiss. It had less urgency in it. It felt like Peeta. _My _Peeta.

"I. _Love_. You." He said forcefully, eyes boring into mine. He kissed me again, softly, slowly, and again. Then pulled away and picked up my panties.

"I'm keeping these," he said, stuffing them into his pocket.

"Hey-" I hopped off the desk, pushing him by the chest until he hit the wall. "This isn't over. You have to finish what you started, _Mr. Mellark_." He shuddered hard when I said his name. It was my turn to end things. I trailed my fingertips up his arms and ghosted my hands over his cheeks.

"I love you too," I kissed him quickly, once, twice, then grabbed my shoes and ran back to the gym, turning back to see him standing half-out of the classroom, hand cupping his jaw and a dazzled smile on his face.

**Okay, can we all just marvel for a second that it is chapter TWENTY? If you made it this far, THANK YOU FOR STAYING WITH ME ON THIS! I cannot tell you how appreciative I am of all you lovely readers! And warm welcome to any new ones! Your reviews are so encouraging! I looked forward to waking up the morning after posting to see all the wonderful activity on this story. It's very near and dear to me and so are each and every one of you. Stay with me. I'll make it worth your while!**

**Keep up the reviews (and don't forget to favourite/follow) for lots of love, internet hugs, 3 wishes and UPDATES!**

**Stay classy, kids!**

**(;**

**-your canadian amiga**


	21. Chapter 21

**Happy almost Valentine's Day! I've never really celebrated the holiday due to my lifetime membership in the Lonely Hearts Club (any Marina fans in here?) but my bud was all, "Dude, you gotta update and make it all sexy!" Sooo, here is ISN'T. Sorry. This is a quickie to set it up for a ****VERY SPECIAL CHAPTER arriving on Valentine's Day!**** So get ready, kids! Also, shoutout to ****_eekabeeka _****and****_ risingfromtheshadows. _****Thanks for being with me and reviewing from the beginning. And, like, for being Canadian!**

Chapter Twenty-One 

I was enjoying myself. Really, I was.

At least, I kept telling myself that.

It was great to be on the dance floor; to lose myself in a sea of bodies and a bass so strong that I could feel every downbeat echoing in my bone marrow. I got to twirl, bounce and shake out my hair until my brain boggled in my skull. Kids I hardly ever spoke to invited me into the crowd with open arms, spinning me here and swaying me there. I wasn't an island. I was a part of a continent. All of us students clumped together into an entity of youth and vibrancy. It was energizing. It was beautiful.

But every time another hand grabbed mine to pull me into a rhythmic embrace, the touch was wrong. Every time I twirled on the tips of my heels, I'd catch of glimpse of the eyes I wanted on me, the hands I wanted holding mine, the lips I wanted kissing mine. No matter the energy of the crowd, my circuit wasn't complete without Peeta connected to me.

I made me sad. I stopped in the middle of the song, pushing whoever's hand was resting on my hip away and staring at nothing in particular. I tried to let the music drown out my thoughts but they just kept screaming louder and louder, contradicting each other. They told me to run to Peeta, to run _from _Peeta, to trust them and to betray them, to get what I want and what I _should_ want. Nothing was making sense. Peeta caught my eye and raised a questioning eyebrow, curious about my statuesque stance in the fluxing, flowing crowd. I opened my mouth, as if to mouth '_I'm fine_' or 'i_t's nothing_'_, _but I just stayed there, staring at him, finding serenity in his image.

And then I ran, again, like I always so. Back up the stairs, tearing off my heels. Back down the hall, towards my locker. I attacked the lock furiously, trying to opening it once, twice, three times and letting out an frustrated yell into the deserted hallway when it wouldn't obey. I pulled at the faulty metal with rage, kicking the bottom of my locker and slamming my palms against it until I slid down to the floor with my face in my knees.

I tried not to cry. Really, I did.

At least, I kept telling myself that.

_This is stupid, Katniss, it's just a lock. _More crying.

_What's gotten into you? You can take on Marvel but not a shitty piece of metal? _More crying.

_Stop being immature. Get your shit together._

"It's okay to cry Katniss."

I shook my head in my knees at the voice, protesting both his remarks and his presence. I felt a warm hand pull through my hair, gently caressing my scalp as my shoulders shook from the tears. Then I came to my senses.

"No, stop-" I ducked my head away, pushing myself upright and stepping back, putting space between myself and Peeta. He waited for me to explain myself.

"Don't think... I-I don't want you to-" I hung my head in shame, watching my tears hit the floor.

"I'm acting like a child," I whispered, grabbing my opposite elbows.

"Oh, Katniss. No..." he stepped towards me, pulling my chin up with his thumb and forefinger. I looked at him through bleary eyes. "You're acting like a person."

I laughed, more tears spilling rapidly as he rested his forehead on mine. I closed my eyes, pulling in a deep breath that I hadn't known I'd needed so badly. Peeta cupped his hand around the back of my head, stroking down my hair so comfortingly that I sighed audibly, melting into his arms. My left cheek burned against his chest as he stroked the back of his hand down my right cheek, fingertips trailing lightly over my lips.

"Do you want to tell me why you were up here, crying?" He asked after my breathing had calmed.

"No..." I said against his adam's apple.

"Are you sure?" he breathed into my hair.

"It's just... Sometimes..."

"Hm?" he pressed.

"I want you so much it hurts," I said softly, my voice breaking on the last word and new tears forming.

Peeta pulled my mouth to his in a second. He kissed me wit ferver, lips pressing against mine quickly, forcefully. His tongue peeked out to caress my bottom lip and I opened my mouth to allow him better access to mine. My top teeth sank into his bottom lip and he groaned as I pressed my hips against his, gasping.

"You still owe me from earlier," I said against his lips, trailing my palms up his chest.

"And I still have something precious of yours in my pocket," he challenged, wiggling an eyebrow. "Did you come to get your coat?" he whispered. I nodded in response. "What's the combination?"

He released me from his hold to retrieve my coat, which I accepted graciously.

"Here," he took my hand a placed a small, cool object in my palm. My fingers trailed over a line of spikes and grooves. I opened my palm to reveal a slightly tarnished silver key. I looked back at Peeta.

"You remember the address?"

"Yes."

"Take a cab," he instructed, placing a bill in my open palm.

"Peeta, I-"

"Just listen to me, Katniss," he closed my fingers around the money. "For once." He smiled and ducked down to place a lingering kiss under my jaw, and he turned to leave.

"Wait!" I grabbed his hand, pulling him back to me. "When will you be home?"

_Home._ We both smiled at the word.

"Not long. Forty minutes? And hour?" He gave a smile and turned to leave again.

"Wait," I whispered.

I reached out for Peeta's hands, and he wrapped them around me, leaning in. I nuzzled my nose against his and blinked, sure he could feel my eyelashes flutter. I brought my hand to cup his cheeks, my arms resting over his.

"I love you," I said, looking him square in the eye.

"Like crazy," he answered, taking in an achingly slow breath before giving me a single, delicate kiss.

It was mine turn to watch him leave with a dazzled smile of my own.

**I heard a rumour that ****sexy Valentine's Day updates**** only come if y'all ****REVIEW+FAVE+FOLLOW****  
Hmm, I'd get on that if I was you...**

**P.S. Have I mentioned that you are MORE THAN WELCOME to ****PM me**** with questions/ideas/you-feel-like-chatting**

**WHOA I SWEAR THIS WHOLE THING JUST GOT DELETED THIS SECOND; THANK GOD FOR AUTO-SAVE. k bye.**

**Stay classy, kids! (;**

**Can't wait to hear from you!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Hey there lovlies! I dearly hope your Valentine's Days were better than mine. You had all better love me, though, because I am giving you a SUPER-LONG-SEXY-CHAPTER-EXTRAVAGANZA! Shoutout to risingfromtheshadows again because I just loved your reaction last time... Can you top it? And to applecakes5... My idiot bff who knows she doesn't deserve it because she hasn't read the last eight chapters. But, she's here in bed with me and brought me chocolate! Anyhoo, enjoy my gift to you!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games (But I do own Peeta's poetry anthology (; )**

It didn't take long to flag a taxi. I slid into the backseat, giving the driver Peeta's address and reclining in the faux-leather. My eyes flashed to the ID card hooked around the driver's headrest.

_Vladimir Privalov. _

His eyes caught mine in the rear-view mirror.

"Long night?" he asked in a thick accent, his eyes creasing from what I made out to be a friendly smile.

"You have no idea," I cocked an eyebrow, turning to look out the window. We passed by a club called {V} on a posh sidestreet. I looked at the glamourous women in platform Christian Louboutin heels and custom-tailored Givenchy slips. They looked so composed, so grand. But they all stood tight-lipped, taking longs drags of cigarettes to smooth the stress-creases between their eyebrows. They may have been lucky, but they sure as hell didn't seem happy.

I, on the other hand, was becoming increasingly anxious with excitement. My foot tapped the floor of the cab faster and faster, unable to reign in my anticipation for my long-awaited evening with Peeta. We had unfinished business that I wasn't going to let slide.

When we finally pulled up at Peeta's curbside, I practically threw the bill in Vladimir's face with a quick, "Thanks, keep the change!" I bolted through the door of the apartment complex and hurried up the stair to 404. I unlocked the door and stepped into the dark apartment cautiously. No lights were on; just little blue, green and red flashes from the TV, stovetop, idle laptop and other gadgets. A thick line of light came in from the far window, making a clearly lit path that ended at the tops of my toes. I shrugged out of my jacket and toed off my heels, padding quietly along the path to the light.

In the distance, the city buzzed. It was full of life, of youth just beginning a night full of promise. But here, on the quieter edge of town, a new vivacity of my own was coming to life itself. I smiled widely at the thought.

* * *

About a thousand course of action ran through my head in a matter of seconds. _Lounge seductively on the couch. Light candles. Take off heels. Take off everything _but _heels. Hair up. Hair down. Shower. No- bath. No- neither; it'll ruin my makeup._

My head was spinning and groaned in frustrations. I checked the time. I had about fifteen minutes before Peeta was due home. Twenty, if I was lucky. I decided to rinse my body in the shower. I tried my hair in a knot on my and used the showerhead to carefully rinse everything from my shoulder-down. I scanned Peeta's selection of body wash and shampoos, landing on the most feminine one I could find: Lemony Lavender. I giggled as I picked up the bottle, squeezing the contents into an open palm and massaging the gel into my arms, down my sides, across my stomach and over my breasts. I repeated this circuit, lingering on the latter, massaging, caressing and delicately handling my chest as I worked in the scented soap. I closed my eyes and relished the feeling of the steaming water, the droplets trickling down my body in warm, smooth streams. I could imagine Peeta in here with me, his hands touching my instead of my own.

My hands trailed lower and lower down my torso until my fingers reached their destination. My eyes shot open with a gasp as I stopped myself, wanting to be ready for Peeta but not _too_ ready.

_Patience_, I thought. _You're almost there, Katniss._

I shut off the water and toweled off quickly, suddenly aware that I was low on time. I paced in the small washroom, still unsure of what to wear, if anything, and where to wear it. I settled on redressing fully. After all, we were meant to be having our own dance. Last time I checked, one didn't attend these things in the nude. As I pulled my bra and dress back on, I was reminded that Peeta had taken my panties, and that I was going to get my revenge. This only made me more excited.

My last move was to retrieve my God-forsaken heels. I quickly fluffled out my hair and reapplied my lipstick, thankful for jacket pockets. I settled in my usual corner on the couch and crossed my legs, trying to maintain a steady pace of breath. I went over our poem in my head to occupy my mind, which was running at a thousand miles per a second.

_Looking up at the stars, I know quite well_

_That, for all they care, I can go to hell,_

_But on earth indifference is the least_

_We have to dread from man or beast._

_How should we like it were stars to burn_

_With a passion for us we could not return?_

_If equal affection cannot be,_

_Let the more loving one be me._

_Admirer as I think I am-_

I heard the doorknob twist. I took in a deep breath.

_…_

Then there was a quick rapping on the door.

_Oh, right! Should have left it unlocked… Oops._

I ran the short distance to the door letting out my earlier breath and smiling excitedly.

And there he was, leaning against the threshold with his arms and legs crossed, a weary smile of his cheeky face.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi." It was so quiet that it was almost a whisper.

"May I come in?"

"Hmm," I pondered thoughtfully, then stepped to the side to allow Peeta into his flat.

"I have your key," I reached for the object I'd left on the small table beside the door.

"No-" he breathed, catching my hand and pulling it into his. "You should keep it." He towed me closer.

"Really?" I smiled, wrapping my free arm around his shoulder to cup the back of his neck.

"Really." His hand released mine but trailed up my arm, wrapping around me, his other arm mirroring the action. I rested my head on his shoulder, relishing the embrace and finally feeling cleared. Light. _Free_.

"I'll be right back," he said as he eventually pulled away, heading towards the kitchen. He stopped at his iPod dock on the way, throwing me a wink as he pressed play.

I swayed to the music, stepping purposefully back towards the window, leaning my head against the cool glass. I didn't recognize the song this time, but the melody was sweet and soft and slow building in a perfect, melancholic harmony. I'd have to ask Peeta the name of the artist later, if I could ever find my voice again.

I saw the lights dim around me and heard a match strike. I saw a faint reflection of Peeta in the window, making his way around the room and lighting a few candles here and there. He was so quiet that I probably wouldn't have noticed him if it hadn't been for the reflection. I smiled at him image and returned my gazed to the glowing skyline, tracing my finger along the rooftops. I lowered my hand and closed my eyes.

I don't know how long I stood like that until I felt a familiar set of lips on my neck, splitting into a wide smile. Peeta's hands wrapped around me and he pulled my back against his chest.

"I'm _so glad_ you're here," he whispered in my ear, voice thick with what I hoped was desire. I turned my head, smiling up at him, and he placed a chaste kiss on my lips.

"Dance with me," he said with pleading eyes.

"I don't know how," I admittedly bashfully.

"Oh, please, you danced all night! I had to _watch_." Did I detect a hint of jealousy?

"Peeta, you know I wanted to be with you. We just went through this. What do I have to do to prove it to you? I want _you_."

"You can dance with me," he released me from his grasp, keeping only my hands in his. He pulled me to the center of the room and held one hand in his as the other wrapped firmly around my waist. I gulped, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder, staring into his eyes and waiting.

"Relax, Katniss," Peeta smiled, taking the lead and swaying us to the 3:4 time of the waltz. It took about eight seconds for me to remember that this was Peeta, _my Peeta_, and it didn't matter if I wasn't Ginger Rogers. I rolled my shoulders back, releasing the tension from my neck and moving my arms to wrap around his. I rested my head in the crook of Peeta's neck as his hands planted themselves firmly on my back.

_Safe._

Eventually, the music stopped, but we didn't. We stood there, hardly moving, wrapped in each other's embraces. Peeta started humming.

_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,  
You make me happy when skies are gray.  
You'll never know, dear, how much I love you;  
Please don't take my sunshine away._

We stopped moving. I stared at him. He stared at me. Slowly, ever so slowly, Peeta's hands slid up my back, my shoulders, my neck. His fingers knotted briefly through my hair, the pads of his fingertips grazed the line of my jaw, until his palms eventually cupped my cheeks. I gulped. Neither of us blinked.

We started at each other as our lips met. It was building, building, our lips gaining speed and urgency and _need_. I kissed him so hard it hurt. And my tongue was in his mouth and his teeth were grazing my lips and my hands were in his hair and his lips were on my skin. I pulled at his roots, pressing him harder to me as I'm sure his lips were marking my neck. I grabbed his tie like I had earlier, sliding my hands higher and higher until I held him by the throat. I stared at him as I held him captive in my hands, throwing him a challenging look as our faces inched closed and closer. He moved in for a kiss, but I ducked quickly, spinning away and giggling.

"No," I thought out loud, cocking a hip. "I don't think so. Not until you finish what you started." I strutted back to Peeta slowly, kicking off my heels for the hundredth and final time, shortening myself by nearly half a foot. "You still owe me," I whispered.

"I know," he stroked my cheek with the back of a hand. "But I still want to do this right. So we don't have to do _everything_ tonight, right?"

I sighed in relief. I wanted Peeta. We had so much sexual tension that I constantly worried I'd combust by being within six feet of him. But he was right. This was all fairly new to me. And even though my body was ready for everything, I wasn't sure if my mind was.

But- _fuck_, I was ready for _something_.

I hooked two fingers around the top of his tie, pulling down and loosening the restraint.

"You're perfect," I slid the loop off Peeta's neck and leaned in to kiss him. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders as he gripped my thighs, pulling me up, into his arms. As I wrapped my legs around his hips for support, we both remembered that Peeta had taken something of mine earlier.

He growled at the closeness of our contact, grabbing my jaw and pulling my lips back to his with newfound urgency. As Peeta carried me towards his bedroom, I fussed with the buttons on his shirt, popping open the collar and top three buttons before I hungrily slid my palms across the expanse of his chest.

We hit the mattress, Peeta falling over me with a knee between mine. He pulled away to look at me, smiling down at me with wonder as he lightly pulled his fingers through my hair that splayed around my head. I bit my lip, not wanting to cry at this perfect moment. I couldn't ever forget the way his veins curled around the forearms that supported him, the light dusting of blond hair, his broad shoulders shielding me from the world. The bobbing of his Adam's apple as he gulped from nerves and anticipation. The two faint lines between his eyebrows as he bit the inside of his cheek to suppress a moan. His lips, full and plush from kissing, rough from my spontaneous nips. His eyes, glowing in the darkened bedroom, that seemed to exist only for me. Their thick frames of brown and black lashes. They may have been _his _eyes, but we both silently knew they belonged to me.

I don't know how long we started at each other in the darkness, Peeta hovering over me, but I made the loudest action I could without making a sound. I slid my arms from Peeta's shoulder, down to his hand, and I guided it flat up my thigh, higher and higher, leading his fingers to my center. I let out a short whimper at the contact and his eyes turned dark from suddenly dilated pupils.

Peeta leaned down to kiss me as he teased me, fingers stroking lightly and slowly as I panted into his mouth. I couldn't believe the unbearable ecstasy that came from such simple contact. And I couldn't believe we hadn't done it before.

Then Peeta pulled away completely.

"Hey-" sat up with wide, wild eyes. I saw Peeta unbuckling his belt and pushing down his pants. He was left in his half-open shirt and black boxer-briefs. I cocked an eyebrow.

"Sorry," he blushed with a cheeky smile. "Uncomfortable…" I could tell by the straining in his cotton underwear. He moved to undo the remaining buttons on his shirt, pulling it off completely. I blushed more heavily than ever, lowering my gaze.

"But we're doing this right," he cupped my jaw, pulling my gaze to his, "Right?" I smiled.

"Right."

I spun, my back facing Peeta as I loosely lifted my hair.

"Unzip me, please." The dress was split down my back in a second. Peeta's warm fingers trailed from the base of my neck down, down, to the bottom of the zipper at my hips. His hands pushed into the sides of the dress, peeling in from me and pulling it off completely. I sat on my knees in just my bra. I looked at him over my shoulder and smiled.

"May I?" His fingers traced the clasp.

I simply nodded, lifting my arms outwards slightly to allow the garment to my pulled from my chest.

Peeta pulled me into his lap from behind, his bare chest against my naked back. His fingers trailed up my hips, my waist, my arms, to my collarbone where they lingered. I grabbed his hands and pulled them down, guiding them around my breasts. I held his hands under mine, over my chest, sighing at the contact. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against his chest in pleasure. His left hand stayed on my breast, cupping it gently, fingers playing with my nipple as my excitement built. His lips fell to my neck, placing trails of open-mouth kisses back and forth between my neck and shoulder. I was focused on Peeta's right hand, though, which was trailing agonizingly slowly from my right breast, down my torso, over my naval and returning to its previous placement between my legs.

I didn't take long. I was so ready for him that it was a matter of seconds of heavy breathing and tightly gripped hands before my release washed over both of us in a wave. When my body calmed and breathing slowed, we laid back onto the pillows. Peeta's arms wrapped around me and I marveled at him with wonder and elatedness. My fingers ran up and down Peeta's arm, tracing invisible patterns as a Cheshire grin stayed securely on my face.

"I like the way you feel in my arms," Peeta whispered in my ear. "I like the way you felt under me. I like how you long hair tickles my skin. I like how your hands are smooth but textured. I like how you melt into my touch. I like how your body seems to curve perfectly into my palms, no matter where I place them. I love how you _want _me. I love how you're ready for me. I love you you're wet when I touch you, present when I kiss you, there when I need you. I like how you gasp when I do this," his forefinger and thumb pinched my nipple. "I like how you hold your breath when I do this," he stroked my center quickly. "But I like how the air gushes out when I do this," he placed two fingers inside me abruptly and I panted at the sudden contact. "I like how you react to me," his fingers danced up my thighs.

"What I don't know is if I like your expressions, because you weren't facing me," he stroked my cheek thoughtfully.

"I know one way we can change that," I smiled, knotting my fingers through his and pulling him on top of me.

**Do. You. Love. Me. Yet?  
REMEMBER: reviews+faves+follows=sexysexANDupdates (...math.)  
****Happy V-Day from the president of the Lonely Hearts' Club. xoxoxoxo**

**Stay classy, kids (;**


	23. Chapter 23

**Hello, lovlies. Do you hate me yet? Good. Hate is a passionate emotion. If I can evoke that in you, I'm more assured you'll come back for resolution (; Honestly, I am sorry it took so long to update. And I'm not too proud of this chapter. But I hope you like it nonetheless. I'm kind of losing steam on this story... Don't hate me? I just need to relocate my drive (I think I've lost it). Give me some time. Stick with me, I need you! Without further ado: **

**Déni de Responsabilité : Je ne possède pas Les Jeux de Faim.**

Chapter Twenty-Three

_I sat in one of the back staircases of the school. For one, it was less used which meant less hurdles to jump on my journey to the next floor. More importantly, though, it was a little closer to Peeta's classroom than some of the others._

_It was my favourite staircase. _

_I sat on the steps facing the grand window that resembled one you'd find in a medieval tower. Or maybe in a church, just above the altar. The musky windowpanes, smudged with years of student traffic, still allowed the sun to peer through. I must have been later in the evening, since the sun was coming in at a vibrant, but soft orange. The pigment of the sky was so thick that it was like looking into a scoop of orange sherbet._

_I leaned my face into my palms and shut my eyes, absorbing the warmth of the evening sun._

_I heard a door pushed open and click shut. Slow, rhythmic tapping of heel-toe-heel-toe echoed through the concrete walls. Closer and closer, they climb up the first flight, nearing me. I opened my eyes to Peeta facing me from the landing. I looked at him with a neutral face. I couldn't tell his expression from his stance; the blinding rays of setting sun silhouetted him from behind. He looked like a painting of a Grecian stature, standing before me with one hip slightly cocked and a hand in the front pocket of his jeans._

_Peeta climbed a step towards me. Then another and another. He crouched down two steps below, running his big hands from my elbows, up to my writs, just grazing my jaw and back down. I could see his face now, as his eyes shone up at me through thick lashes._

_"What do you want?" he whispered softly._

_"To be with you," I said simply. Surely he knew that. "What do you want?"_

_Peeta remained silent, staring at me for an eternity. I held my breath. Counted: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5._

_And his lips were on mine. His hands wrapped around mine, around my cheeks. His lips crushed him as he exhaled with fervor. He pulled us both to standing. I was nearly his height because I was on a higher step. His kisses slowed, simmering and sweet. I pulled back but leaned my forehead down to rest on his. He stared up at me with wild eyes._

_"For if the snake had rivaled not the man," he whispered, pushing fallen hair behind my ear, "The tree of life would start to bloom again."_

I awoke to darkness. Peeta slept soundly behind me, his body curled around my form. I could feel his steady breath on my neck and in my hair. I traileded my fingertips over his forearm which slung around my waist.

"_I like the way you feel in my arms_," Peeta's words from earlier echoed in my mind. My cheeks flushed at the though. How long had it been? I must had drifted off…

I rolled over in Peeta's arms to face him when I realized that1) He wasn't wearing a shirt and 2) I wasn't either. _Oh well._ I kissed from his clavicle, up his neck and jaw.

"Hmm," Peeta let out a heavy sigh, wrapping both arms around me and rolling onto his back, consequently pulling me on top of him.

"Peeta," I whispered in his ear. He shifted. "Peeta, wake up."

Nothing.

I leaned my face towards his, ghosting my lips over his, nuzzling his nose with mine and tickling his cheeks with my eyelashes.

Nothing.

I placed my lips against his still ones, maneuvering onto my elbows so I could pull my fingers through his hair. I slipped my tongue between his lips, barely caressing them when his eyes shot open. I could feel a wide smile spreading against my lips as his face smoothed with recognition and giddiness. Peeta brought his hands up my bare back, slipping between my bare shoulder blades.

"Hi," he murmured between kisses.

"Hey," I smiled back, staring into his eyes. He broke our gaze, looking down to see my fingers, palms, arms against his chest, his gazing trailing up my body to my face.

"I can't believe you're here," he smiled, holding my fingertips to his lips.

"It's not the first time, you know," I leaned closer, letting my loose hair form a protective curtain around us. There was no one else in the world.

"I know, I just…" He seemed to be at a loss of words. He flipped us over, suddenly, placing his hips between my legs and pulling the blanket over our heads.

"I just can't believe you're here. Waking _me_ with kisses. In _my _bed." His hands trailed along my ribs and I flinched with a squeal.

"Stop!" I laughed. "Stop, stop, that tickles!"

"Oh, does it?" He leaned down, blowing in my ear as his fingertips continued to ghost over my sides.

"Peeta!" I panted. "Peeta, stop, I can't breathe," I hissed between hysterical giggles.

"Say the magic words," he kissed my jaw.

"I hate you!" I yelled.

"Hmm, I don't think that's right," I applied more pressure, crippling me with laughter and muscle spasms.

"I love you," I wheezed, pawing at his hands.

"What was that?"

"I love you!" I shouted with a toothy smile.

"Ah, there we go."

Peeta's hands immediately released my ribcage and moved around my back to flatten me against his chest.

"That was not nice," I muffled into his shoulder.

"On the contrary," he teased, "I found it _very_ nice."

"Did you, Mr. Mellark?" I nipped at his jaw.

"Katniss…" he groaned.

"Hmm?"

"It's… I don't know how to feel when you call me that."

"Call you what, _Mr. Mellark_?" I whispered against his skin.

"_That_," he pulled away to arms length so he could read my expression. "It's weird."

"It's kind of hot," I stroked his cheek, "Don't you think?"

"Argh," Peeta rolled on top of me again, groaning into my hair. "It's wrong how much I want you."

"It's wrong to try and fight it," I whispered in his ear. He pulled back to look me in the eye.

"I'm _long-done_ trying to fight it." He moved in for a kiss.

**I'm sorry it's so short. And I'm sorry in advance for not updating because DIS BITCH IS GOING TO CUBAAAA. On Thursday. For 7 days. But I won't really have internet, so maybe I'll be forced to write? Maybe I'll write a TON. Or maybe I'll drink Daquiris at the in-pool bar. IDK, we'll see.**

**Don't for get to follow my tumbr **(101decembers) **and twitter **( 101decembers) **and instagram **(realtamarb). **Most importantly instagram.**

**IF YOU REVIEW, FAVE AND FOLLOW, I PROMISE TO UPDATE. Happy March, bitches!xox**

**Stay classy, kids (;**

WAIT PS I wrote a short story (not a fanfic) and was wondering if anyone wanted to read it? If you like John Green, you'll love it! PM what you think.


	24. Chapter 24

**HE - LLO - LOVELIES!**

**So it has been a hundred years. Literally. DID YOU MISS ME?! Cuz I missed you! Dearly! I haven't written for this story in ages and I had ****_so much fun_**** getting back to it. I feel re-energized and motivated to keep it going! So I think this space was good for our relationship k guys? Good. Glad we're on the same page. He's a quick update to give you your fix. Sorry it's not more :( Don't worry, I won't be far! **

**Hmm, maybe this update took so long because there weren't enough FOLLOWS AND FAVS!**

**Disclaimer: I D0 N0T OWN THG.**

Chapter Twenty-Four

"Black mid-rise or snake-print-twigs?" Jo asked me as I sat on her bed amidst a heap of spring clothes.

"I don't know, Jo! How many pairs of jeans will you manage to wear in an eight-day timespan?"

"Eight! At least," she through her hands up in frustration, covering me in more denim.

I watched as she threw miscellaneous items into her generously sized suitcase, which could easily fit the two of us. And maybe a small elephant. It was overflowing with chiffon tops, knit cardigans, peplum skirts, printed skinny jeans, lacy thongs, assorted makeup, hair products and whatever else women needed to survive an seven-day trip to France with their classmates.

"Looking forward to some quality time with Thresh?" I flung a scary looking thong in her direction, missing her by at least a foot. Having the agility of a superhuman, she reached out a hand to grab the torture-device and fling it back, hitting me straight in the face.

"Ew!"

"Your own fault, brainless."

"I don't know where that's been!" I peeled the garment from my cheek.

"On the contrary," she winked, "I think you know _exactly_ where it's been."

"Eugh," I shivered at the suggestion.

"Anyway, I need your help! This is an emergency." I raised a skeptical eyebrow."The platforms or the pumps?"

I let out a deep sigh, questioning my closest friend's priorities before caving into the girlish dilemma.

"Always go with the Jerffery Campbells." I pointed to the platform boots.

"Right. Campbells. Good." Jo threw them into the suitcase with the rest of her life's possessions.

"Isn't it exciting, Kat?" she climbed into the open suitcase, reclining on the plushy clothes.

"What?" I asked, climbing in with her. We lay in the big black box, our arms, legs and heads spilling out with an assortment of fabrics and baubles.

"Going to _Paris. _With _boys._"

"Men," I corrected, pulling a sock from her hair.

"-_Man_ in _your_ case. Young men for the rest of us."

"Mr. Mellark isn't old, he's _mature_," I defended.

"Yeah, old enough to be a _mister_!"

"Johanna, I will zip you up in the suitcase, so help me God!"

* * *

On the last day before Spring Break, there were seven students in first period English. _Seven_. 'Mr. Mellark' allowed us the first ten minutes as free time to allow for the unlikely case of more students showing up. Jo wasn't there, of course, because she was sensible and knew what was good for her and that the day before break was a complete and utter waster of time. And it didn't hurt that she didn't allow herself to be seduced into attending by her sex-god English teacher. I lay my head on the tops of my hands at my desk and closed my eyes to rest, allowing my mind to wander to memories of the previous night.

_"__I'm expecting you to show, Katniss," Peeta informed me as we lounged on his sofa. I was squished between the crevice of the cushions and his torso._

_"__Ugh," I groaned into his chest. "_No one_is going!"_

_"__Which is why I need you to come. For moral support?" He tilted my chin so my gaze met his. I melted at his pleading smile._

_"__Please?"_

_"__No," I tuned my head away._

_"__Please, Katniss?" I felt Peeta's breath heavy in my ear. My own caught in my throat. I shook my head to clear the lustful fog._

_"_No," _I said sternly._

_"__Well," his hand trailed weightlessly along my side, from my arm, to my hip, to the top of my thigh. "I could make it worth your while," he suggested._

_"__By giving me an A+?" I joked lamely in attempt to mask my excitement. I doubted it worked by the way my body instinctively leaned into his._

_"__No," he chuckled, "I think you've already earned that the _moral_way." One of his hands cupped my cheek as the other combed through my hair. "I was thinking I could give you something else."_

I forced my thoughts back to the present, not wanting to get too _excited_ in first period. I didn't want my classmates thinking I was any more peculiar than they seemed to find me already.

Eventually Peeta resumed the lesson.

"Due to the lack of attendance- and the lack of _enthusiasm_," he shot an accusatory look at me, and then threw one at Marcus across the room, to avoid suspicion, "We're going to take it easy today. If anyone wants me to review his or her proposals for the Hamlet essay, I'd be more than happy to. Take this time prep. Okay?"

The seven of us watched stoically.

"Okay, guys?"

"Mhm," we murmured collectively.

"Okay," Peeta went to sit at his desk.

I tried to keep my thoughts on Ophelia. I tried to picture her "crownet" of willow branches and wild flowers. I tried to hear the tune of her song. But when my eyes scrawled over the text "And will he not come again," I couldn't help but let my eyes flash to Peeta, whose eyes had flashed to mine. I couldn't help the blood rushing to warm both the more surfaced and deepest parts of my body. I couldn't help the veil of both love and lust that clouded my vision from my classmates and our classroom so that all I could see was Peeta Mellark, fifteen feet away and far-too-clothed.

I gathered up my Hamlet essay notes and crossed the room the Peeta's desk. His eyes flicked from me, back to his computer screen where he was working.

"What can I do for you, Ms. Everdeen?" he asked the computer.

"Well, I had some questions… About Ophelia's character?"

"Oh?" His blue eyes, round and wide, framed with ashen-blond lashes, met mine. _Nothing else can look so beautiful under fluorescents._ He pushed away from his computer and gestured a hand to the chair next to his desk. I smiled timidly and sat, making sure I kept a standard distance and normal body language.

"So what can I help you with?" He smiled suggestively.

"Um," my eyes scanned behind me to survey my classmates. Of the original seven, two had left to 'go to the washroom' (fifteen minutes ago). Beth and Theo were writing notes, Marcus was listening to his iPod and Zack appeared to be completely passed out on his desk. No one seemed to be paying the slightest attention to me or Peeta. I dropped my shoulders, calming down.

"Well," I said softly, "Ophelia seems to really love Hamlet in Act One."

"Do you think so?"

"Yes. I think she's naïve and the period has to be taken into consideration, along with poetic licensing that is always extended to good old Shakespeare," I rambled, "But then Hamlet comes into her room. Mad and frantic. And she doesn't know why. I mean, I do, because of dramatic irony. But what I don't understand is: Hamlet comes into her room. Wild was crazed. And he grabs her with passion and desire; and-" I paused at Peeta's expression, which had stretched into an increasingly wide smile at my own frantic babbling.

"What?" I laughed.

"Nothing, just-" Peeta paused and leaned back, creating distance I hadn't realized we'd been closing. I saw his eyes flicker around the room. No red flags. "You just seem to be explaining with a lot of… passion. What's your point?"

"My _point_ is," I smiled, "If I was in love with a man, and he came into _my_ room, _grabbed_ me and _held _me…"

"Yes?" His voice was rough with lust.

"I wouldn't have let him go," I said softly, quirking an eyebrow.

Peeta stared at my for a while, likely unsure how to respond, if at all, in the classroom setting with other students only paces away.

"Well," he said at regular volume, scratching at the stubble on his neck, "If you think you'll really have a problem with it and you want to clear it before break, you can come by my office next period. Unless you were planning on attending second period?" He smiled knowingly. I threw it right back.

"And as for the rest of you," Peeta stood and addressed the class at full volume, "If you're not coming on the class trip, have a good Spring Break. And if you _are_ coming-" his eyes flickered to mine- "Then I'll see you in Paris."

**YAY FOR PLOT ADVANCEMENT! YAY FOR SEXY SCENE COMING UP! YAY FOR PARIS! YAY!**

**Please remember to fav/follow/review/PM because it actually ****_does_**** make me write more and faster. Gimmie some incentive guys! It's you, it's you, it's all for you. BTW how are you all? Long time no speak! Hope you had a nice Easter/March Break! PM me and let's chat klol?! I missed you.**

**Stay classy, kids (;**


	25. Chapter 25

**HOW HAPPY WERE YOU TO GET THIS NOTIFICATION?! Well, sorry to disappoint. It's really short. Guys, I just don't know what to do with this. I really need your help. I BEG YOU, PM me and tell me what you want (what you really, really want) because I am so lost.**

**Whatever this tidbit is, I hope you enjoy it. Please hit me up with 'em wants and wishes.**

**-thanks to catching-fire21 for beta-ing-**

Chapter Twenty-Five (ish)

I know for whom the bell tolls. It tolls for me. To put me out of my misery. As soon as the bell that indicated the end of first period rang, I was out of my seat and at my locker, shoving in my binders and sweater. I twiddled with my lock for five minutes, anxiously urging the miniature student population to disperse from the hallways and allow me to go do something bad. But bad in a really, really good way.

After I watched the last straying student drag themselves into class, I spun on my heel and headed straight for Peeta's office. A raised my hand to knock, just as the door whipped open. Peeta expression changed from anxiety to surprise, landing on relief as he took my hand and pulled me into his office, locking the door behind us.

"Finally. I thought you'd gotten trapped in your locker." I rolled my eyes and turned back towards the door. Peeta quickly caught my wrist, chuckling, and pulled me towards him. He sighed against my lips as he brought my face to his. "One more minute in that classroom and I'd have gone mad."

Peeta kissed my top lip, then my bottom lip, alternating between the two with fleeting urgency.

"Mm," I sighed in agreement, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck. Peeta's hands trailed down my arms, to my hips, gripping the backs of my thighs. Anticipating his neck move, I jumped to wrap my legs around him as he caught me at his navel.

I felt Peeta's smile against mine. I'll never get tired of this.

He kissed me, long and hard, both of us celebrating the victory of finding each other, cherishing the reunion. The kiss was building, though, both of us growing increasingly urgent.

Peeta placed me on the top of his desk, which I was growing increasingly familiar with.

"Dammit, Katniss," he breathed in my ear. "I've always considered Hamlet to be a tragedy." His teeth grazed my neck. "Not erotic."

I gasped at the tip of his tongue trailed along my jaw, back to my lips. I curled my fingers through his hair, flattening my other hand against his back, bringing Peeta as close to me as I could. Peeta pulled back, just enough to look into my eyes. One hand slowly came to rest on my neck. He smiled in adoration, gaze flittering from my eyes, to the trail of his hand combing through my hair, back to me.

"This is the very ecstasy of love," he quoted, hushed.

"Words, words, words," I quoted back with a smile.

Peeta watched me with gleaming eyes, so full of love; a look that I reciprocated effortlessly. But something shifted between us as Peeta's smile faded. He slowly unwrapped me from his hold and stepped back, falling into the chair of his desk. My smile faded, too, as I watched his expression flicker between sadness and guilt.

"What's wrong?" I whispered. It was more of a statement than a question.

Peeta watched me for a long time. He brought his chin to rest on his fist, gently biting on the tip of his thumb. I waited, not wanting to push whatever was clearly difficult for him.

"Katniss," he said after an eternity, "What happens next year."

How suddenly a moment of elatedness turned to one of despair.

What would happen next year? I wasn't returning to high school. I'd sent out applications across the country. Shouldn't I be hearing back any day? Before, my only hesitation for leaving home was Prim. Now I had to consider leaving Peeta, too.

I jumped off the desk, pulling myself into Peeta's lap. My head finding refuge on his shoulder and he instantly dropped his face into my hair. We wrapped our arms around each other tightly, trapping ourselves together.

"I don't know," I whispered against Peeta's neck. "We'll always have Paris!" I tried in lame attempt to lighten the mood. Peeta chuckled. It sort of worked. He took my face in both his hands and just stared, smiling, trying to memorize every feature. The pads of his thumb caressed my cheekbones, my jaw and then trailed over my lips.

"Ne me quitte pas, mon cher."

I smiled. He knew I loved that song.

I pressed my lips to his, an testament to my love.

"Never."


	26. Chapter 26

**Did you miss me? x x **

Chapter Twenty-Six

_"__Do not leave your luggage unattended. Unattended luggage will be collected buy airport staff security."_

The tranquil voice of the recorded woman repeated her cautionary luggage tale for the fortieth time.

"What the _actual fuck_ is going on?" Jo complained for the _millionth_ time. I couldn't blame her. The line security line was dragging on longer than a Homer work.

"This congestion is insane!" Annie leaned he head on my shoulder. "Why are all these people here?"

"It's March break… _Everyone _is fleeing." I pointed out the obvious.

I let out a sigh and leaned my head on Annie's. My gaze caught Peeta's and he gave me a look of equal anxiety. It must be stressful for him, trying to get a group of thirty-plus teenagers to another continent safely. I tried to remind myself that- that he had a responsibility, and that I couldn't be his main concern.

But then he looked at me again, and I remembered why they called it eye _contact_, and my constant reminders that I wasn't his main concern dissipated and died.

_Sigh, deep sigh._

Eventually we all made it through to the gate.

"Alright, guys. It's 10:15. Boarding starts at 10:35, so I guess take fifteen to get magazine, drinks and whatever." Peeta instructed the group.

"Come, I need to get me some in-flight candy," Jo took my hand, pulling me towards a newstand.

"And everyone use the washroom!" We heard Peeta call as we headed in the opposite direction. I shook my head an laughed.

"So..." Jo said casually, picking up a bag of gummy worms, reading the label. "You and Mr. M gonna joining the _mile-high-club?_" She wiggled her eyebrows.

"Dammit, Jo, keep your voice down!" I shoved her shoulder playfully.

"Seriously though... It would be kind of hot. I wouldn't judge you." She traded the worms for Sour Patch Kids.

"You're crazy," I said dismissively with a sigh. But honestly, I hadn't really thought about it. There _had _been a lot of tension between me and Peeta this morning. What, with being together but not getting to _be _together. But we were embarking on a seven-day, cross-continent trip of this tension. We'd have to be able to make it through a flight... Right?

"Crazy," I said again, grabbing a Coke Zero and some gum and heading back to the gate.

_"Please have your passports open to the Photo ID page. Please have you passports open to the Photo ID page._"

We lined up to board the flight to Charles de Gaulle Airport, Paris. I hurried to the front of the line so I could linger near Peeta in the queue.

"Who was Charles de Gaulle?" I asked in genuine interest, knowing Peeta was an even bigger French history buff than myself.

"Who _wasn't _he?" Peeta joked as we slowly shuffed in the line. "He was leader of the French Forces in World War II. But he went on to be prime minister, and then the first president, actually."

"No kidding," I smiled.

"Really. When he died, Georges Pompidou himself said, "De Gaulle is dead. France is a widow."

I smiled at Peeta's enthusiasm. He was adorable.

"Georges Pompidou... He was president, too, wasn't he?"

"That he was," Peeta confirmed. "And get this- De Gaulle instructed that no presidents or prime ministers should attend his funeral. Only fellow awarded military members."

We were at the front of the line now.

"Go ahead," Peeta gestured for me to hand my boarding ticket and passport to the flight attendant. "I'm holding back for head-count."

My classmates, myself, Peeta, two other teachers and about 250 more passengers situated ourselves into our designated seating arrangement. After a fifteen minute hassle of friends trading seats with other friends, kids shoving backpacks under chairs, squeezing more bags into overhead compartments and buckling in, we managed to make it safely into the air. I was in the aisle of my row, with Jo beside me and Thresh beside her. They weren't officially a couple, but they seemed to be more than a fling, so they were well-occupied with each other.

Peeta was in the aisle of the row opposite mine and two up, with the other teachers, Mr. and Mrs. Tomson. They'd met and married teaching at the school. He taught History, she taught French... It was cute.

I popped in my earbuds to distract myself from Jo and Thresh's cutsiness and tried to relax.

_Six and a half hours to go..._

Every now and then, I'd catch Peeta looking back in my direction. He'd give me a quick smile or the quirk of an eyebrow, a small gesture that I could return, but not enough.

Eventually I fell asleep. When I woke up, there were three hours left in the flight. Jo had fallen asleep with her head on Thresh's shoulder, his head on hers. It was adorable. I snapped a picture to show them later, ignoring my own creep-factor for the greater good of young love.

Peeta and I kept making eye contact. I was getting more and more frustrated each time, so I decided to stop looking, picking at my nail polish and nodding my head to the beat of _Blurred Lines_.

"I finished this, If you want to read something." I looked up to see Peeta standing beside me with a copy of _Gatsby. _As if I hadn't read it.

"Oh, um, I've already-"

"I really think you should read it," Peeta interrupted me with a tight-lipped smile and returned to his seat without looking back. Confused, I leafed through the short book, finding a note.

_"Bathrooms in 10?"_ It read.

I smiled.

_That cheeky kid._

** Stay classy, kids **


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